California, Here I Come (Came)....

It's been a while since I have posted. I know, I know. I usually get inspiration from my little weekly update courtesy of sitemeter that shows that my "readership" is slipping from oh, six...to two. At that point, I feel the muse striking. Even if the "two" is composed of Chinese bots with odd comments composed of numbers, I feel that I can't let them down.

As it is, I actually do have a LOT of blog fodder. After all, I just spent 8 full days in a little car with two teens, one 20-something, a Chihuahua and lots of pop-tarts. It was an amazing trip, not only in that we MADE it to California and packed in more activities than anyone thought humanly possible, but that we also made it back. Because, in truth, I would have liked to have stayed.

Well, I thought I would like to have stayed. Of course, California is beautiful. It has really great weather. The beach is awesome. It is pretty much all things "not Texas" (take fish tacos, for instance). However, there are just a few tiny little things in California that made me happy to be home in the Lone Star State.

1) Laws, rules, ordinances and lots of signs reminding me that big brother was watching me.

2) A complete lack of public potties. Or, should I say, usable ones? Perhaps that is because of all the laws, rules and ordinances. Maybe no one in California wants to be liable should someone trip in the loo while talking on a cell phone.

We had a great trip across West Texas (speed limit 80...woo hoo...go Texas!) and New Mexico (somewhat creeped out by "safety zones/do NOT pick up hitchhikers and turn your lights on" signs), and Arizona (slowing down to 75 mph and keeping a watch out for planes monitoring our speed as well as cameras-on-a-stick doing the same). But we were SO excited to be IN CALIFORNIA on day 2. It is always sort of magical how you can get out of the car in Yuma and be struck by, um, nothing, and the next stop is San Diego and you are struck by beauty, cool breezes and fish tacos on every block.

However, when you get out in Yuma...you should be getting gas.

It's not that I was truly worried we would end up like the Donner Party( well,just a little), but when Perfect Daughter said we had about half of a tank and "no worries" as we sailed through Yuma, I did have a twinge of regret passing those lovely Shell and Chevron signs. No matter, we would stop in El Centro before crossing the mountains. I mean, El Centro is a town. Towns do HAVE gas stations, right? Well, none that we could see, and Perfect Daughter happily told me that she drives for DAYS with her little yellow light on in Austin (yeah, there is a gas station every ten feet there) and anyway "we have a 1/4 of a tank").

Then we started into the mountains. Scary, scary mountains. I was fairly sure at this point that there would be NO gas stations up there, but hey, we could probably coast into San Diego from Alpine, when suddenly, we saw a gas station. In fact, in JACUMBA, there were TWO. A Chevron and a Shell. By this time, not only did we need gas, but because California's rest areas had not only been closed, but had been boarded up in the desert and in the foothills, we needed to STOP, period.

Perfect Daughter was doubtful. "It's going to be pricey". I didn't care...pay them anything, just put gas in my car and point me to the restroom.

That was the problem.

The Shell station was first. We pulled up and a group moan sallied forth. "What kind of place IS this?" Rowdy howled. "WHO puts port-a-potties at a gas station?". No worries...Perfect Daughter spied that the Chevron right next door appeared to have indoor plumbing. Yippee. We drove over there.

Rowdy and I leaped out and Perfect Daughter prepared to pump the gas. The bathrooms were located down a scary long hallway, and...the doors not only didn't lock, they didn't actually shut very well. And they opened onto the hall. I have had this exact nightmare before, and it never ends well. I managed to wedge it shut, and be very, very quick. Somehow Rowdy was quicker and was waiting for me as we headed back to the car. Perfect Daughter yelled from across the station, "How were they?".

Um, I didn't really want to yell back, "The doors didn't lock, not very clean and no toilet paper", but she was pretty insistent. I hissed at her when I got closer, "I was going to tell you privately..." but she pointed to the sign that said the pump was out of gas.

"I could put in Supreme, but apparently it's almost out and..."

"NO", I said--picturing sludge going into my little car's tank. "We'll get gas across the street.". Perfect Daughter sallied forth with kleenex in hand and my instructions as to the non-locking door, and we drove over to the Shell station. Too bad the Chevron wasn't going to get our gas money. They could have used it to install locks, toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

Have I mentioned that we were high in the mountains? It was cold (we were in beach gear, of course) and WINDY. As I pulled up to the Shell pumps, I was parked directly in front of the port-a-potties. A young girl was attempting to use one. It also did not lock, but instead of opening up to a hallway, it opened up to six cars getting gas. To make things worse, the howling wind was moving those potties around. The mental images going through our minds of that girl in a potty as it careened down the mountain (yes, they WERE perched on the edge) made it hard for the kids to do what I was instructing them--"just look away, just look away". We were drawn to the spectacle, not unlike a car wreck. At any moment that little girl, the potty and the "contents" would roll down the mountain. We were mesmerized.

Shaking it off,I finished pumping the gas and we were on our way. My kids were completely amazed by this first stop in California.

"Mom!", said Sweet Girl, "is it true that they call TEXANS hicks in California?".

I had to smile.

There is much more to post of our trip, but I'll leave it at this for now. However, just about an hour later when I was on the beach in Pacific Beach, eating my Rubio's original fish taco, all was right with the world.