North Carolina - the blog continuation...

Yes, once I was able to shake the smell of airline passenger desperation from me, my friend (god love her for driving 4 hours to pick me up in Charlotte) and I headed out of Charlotte and towards Asheville:

Oh yes, remember why there were no hotel rooms the night I landed, missed a connection and had to sleep in an airport for 6 hours? Well, the NRA and Sarah Palin also made getting out of Charlotte quite an adventure as well:

Of course, we could not start our journey to Asheville without the the flavor of a local breakfast:

I kept it light and simply had their french toast (comes with sausage, scrambled eggs, toast, fruit and soda). I was confident that Weight Watchers points cost less back east. (I was wrong). DP was as excited as us to head for Asheville and the Biltmore, and was he surprised to see what Southern DP's had to offer: Aaahhh...America's largest home...we made it!

The "front yard":The, uh, "side yard":

The "other side yard":

Please note the difference between me posing in front of the house and those "tourists" in the background:

of course, DP wanted to be in on the posing as well:

The tour was great. We learned a few things:

- The Vanderbilts were rich.
- You know you are of a lower class when you are impressed with the servants rooms.

- Apparently a child grew up in the house, but no bedroom for it was ever revealed. Photos of the kid, kid paraphernalia, even home movie footage of the kid, but no room. Perhaps she was housed in another house?

- Did I mention the Vanderbilts were rich?

- Victorian people were very tiny.

- gift shops sell the same crap everywhere in the world.

Here I am relaxing on one of the verandas:

oh yes, the "backyard":

Me looking at the backyard and thanking god I don't have to mow THAT lawn:

DP looking for his topless DP friend:

"minor" details that make a house a home:

First prize to the one who knows what movie this line is from...*

*disclaimer - there is no prize.

More small details to bring out a house's charm:

and onward to the gardens! Please note: These flowers are NOT fake:

These frogs are not fake either:

Here's me..."blending in":

Another view of the "backyard" - uh, the backyard fence is BEHIND the mountains, by the way:

The house boasted a lot of art (no photos allowed inside), and there were plenty of statues hanging around the gardens as well:

This fish is not a statue:

I think I like this statue and photo of it the best. This is what I look like when playing with my niece and nephews. Uh, with a shirt on, though:

How'd you like THESE hanging over your head while grilling those hot dogs?

All too soon it was time to bid the Biltmore goodbye. We hit the road for a 4 hour drive back to my friend's (god love her for driving 4 hours to pick me up in Charlotte) house:

The next day, another local favorite for breakfast. Again, I ordered a simple breakfast: Grits. Is it my fault that it came with butter and an egg and sausage grilled sandwich?

oh, I almost forgot...at the Biltmore I happened to see THIS:

Really? Is this considered a safe way to transport an infant????

At my friend's (god love her for driving four hours to pick me up in Charlotte) house, DP was shocked to discover that in NC, houses have this thing called "space" between them:

Sadly, it was already time to return to the land of no space, fog and COOLER AIR!

Here's a last shot of the Biltmore "yard" that I took. I like it!

On the perils of getting from Point A to Point B

Recently, a friend invited me to visit her in North Carolina. I assumed, from the placement on the map, that this place is in "the south". Having never been in "the south", I decided to go. I practiced my "ya'lls" and "yes ma'ems" in the mirror, making sure to seem earnest in my efforts. I chose clothing that would help me "blend in" with the locals (no black t-shirts bearing statements such as "SF Peace Lover"), though I DID NOT lower myself to purchasing sandals or flip flops. PLEASE. Dignity at all costs.

A simple plan was hatched. Book airline ticket, get there, enjoy visit, take airline back home. Not so fast! I made it out of SF with only a one hour delay. I KNOW! Shockingly good!

SFO TO RALEIGH -off to other lands
While flying over "those other states" - I took great delight in watching severe thunderstorms surrounding the plane. Having grown up in a "2 strikes and then it's over" location, I was really enjoying the constant action mother nature was supplying:

This was until I heard the captain announce we were about to land in SOUTH Carolina for re-fueling. Now I know that states back east are smaller, but I also know that my destination had a NORTH in the state title.
The very same thunderstorms that I was enjoying were about to turn my trip into a hellacious event. Quick summation:

- Re-fueled in South Carolina for over an hour

- Missed all our connecting flights from Charlotte airport to Raleigh (mine) and Orlando (others)

- Those were the last flights of the night

- Airport security kicked us out into the baggage/pick up area

- It was 11:30 at night

- The bathrooms were closed due to renovation

and...here's the best part...

- there were no hotel rooms in Charlotte due to Sarah Palin and the NRA Convention in town.

The desperate masses (about 150 of us) that had crowded the "special services" airline desk were now all scoping out spots on the floor, where, to my absolute shock and horror, people began to simply give up the fight, lay down on the airport floor and go to sleep. I, on the other hand, had desperately called my friend in Raleigh, and she was on the road to get me. It would take her 4 hours. Driving in thunderstorms. At night. To a strange location. To get me. God love her!

In the meantime, I enjoyed the following sight:

My floor mates were quite diverse, from a middle aged, iPad using father with his teenage iPod using daughter, to a loudly snoring young man who thrashed about like a dog in his sleep. I watched old men curl up on the floor and sleep soundly, young men pace the hall for hours in a zombie like trance, and people attempting to stave off boredom by re-reading some damn article about some damn celebrity with some damn issue.

I was rescued around 4:15 am. Yes, I saw the jealously in the other victim's eyes as I gathered up the sad remains of my magazines and untouched water bottle (remember...no bathrooms!) and practically ran to her car.

RALEIGH TO SFO - the return trip

One of the mantras I subscribe to when flying is "never check your baggage". I had successfully eluded this on the hellacious trip in to NC. I had made sure I was in Zone 2 seats for the trip back to avoid it. Now, as I stepped onto the plane in Raleigh for the one hour flight to Charlotte, I heard the dreaded words slip from the flight attendant's lips like lemon juice on an open wound ..."Stop - from her on back - check the bags". I quickly snatched all electronics from the suitcase, and gave final destination info to the guy who was tagging the bags. "SFO" I said, then watched as he wrote the wrong flight number on my tag. This is how bags end up in Stockholm as you land in SFO.

After slapping him severely about the face (OK, meekly pointing out his error), I was on board and in Charlotte in no time. Despite the rain, thunder and lightening outside the window, I had high hopes we'd be on our way to SFO soon enough:

We sat for THREE HOURS on the runway. Across from me, an infant wailed uncontrollably, representing how we all felt about being made to remain in ONE POSITION for three hours, with 5 more to go once in the air. Under cover of thunder and rain, we finally took off for SFO:

Bored already from hours of airport non stimulation - I took some video of the incredible thunderheads we were flying through:

Next Blog: North Carolina in all it's glory! The Biltmore! The green trees and mountains! Ashville and shopping! The thunder and lightning! Houses with land around them! Frogs! Birds! And much more!

Sunday in the House with Moms

Mother's Day - when mothers all over the world are "treated" to homemade goodies such as a breakfast of cheerios with chocolate syrup and pieces of Legos...unidentifiable clay creations in shapes mother nature never intended...and hand drawn, crayola splattered cards proclaiming each mother the best in the universe. OK, so this year I used markers instead of crayons.

So of course the family all gathered to attend to such festivities. There were flowers, and cards, and hand made goodies. And of course...FOOD.

Here is a dual purpose cake I made. One side is for mothers,

optional title available for others:

Of course, the kids were unimpressed with such cake decorating prowess. The trampoline was calling:

Of course the little darlings took a break once in awhile to critique the buffet offerings:

and the "older crowd" had to be pandered to occasionally:

Of course, the star of such children offerings is usually the youngest...I give you the (not for long) stationary infant:

A rare photo of me with one of the kids:

and the "offerings to the mantle of motherhood" began:

a little butterfly coming in for a landing:

it takes many photos to get to the perfect photo:

the winners! (please note the cropping of some photos - some expressions are NOT salvageable):

and then of course there are others who are not so easily coerced into smiling:

not yet...
close enough:

A little undignified on the spot childcare could be seen throughout the day.

some random photography that kept me busy and away from buffet offerings:

Look at this expression. She's checking out the buffet, no doubt:

All that floor time is exhausting:

some obligatory group shots to round out the afternoon:

The "MOM PATROL"