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North America » United States » Florida » Orlando
November 20th 2009
Published: October 1st 2017
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Gru Gru, looking worriedGru Gru, looking worriedGru Gru, looking worried

Poor puppy. It must seem to him that we're always packing a bag. I wonder if he thinks we just go to the cabin without him...
Geo: 28.5377, -81.3774

Usually I love cold, windy, rainy weather, so perhaps it was the lure of the Bahamas that made me wince when I looked out of the window this morning. The leaves on the oak trees, which, yesterday, seemed colorful and charming, now seemed sodden, brown, and ugly. I put down my head and bundled up (well, I put on a light jacket and scarf – that's bundling up in Lafayette) for the errands that lay ahead of me. I had many errands to run – the bank, the pharmacy, the pet store, nothing extraordinary or interesting – plus the usual laundry and tidying, because, really, I have not been home for much of the last two weeks. It only occurs to me now, as I write this, that I should wonder why I travel on my holidays instead of staying at home, for once, and enjoying the oaks, the wild turkeys, and this gorgeous Bay Area. But I didn't wonder, and I doubt it ever will.

At noon, the girls showed up from school, and we packed up the car with the final objets de voyage, if such a phrase exists, which it should. The logistics are not important: we had no traffic; we arrived at the airport right on time; the lines for general security were incredibly long … thank goodness we had been upgraded and were admitted past the velvet rope. (There are times, I confess, when my patrician needs outweigh my democratic wants.) While waiting for our (delayed, due to weather) flight, we played with the science museum exhibits – the spinning Neptune globe (love the whirls; tried to get a great Dark Spot going but could not) and the condensation tornado … I'm always happy to be a kid. Our flight finally departed – 40 minutes late – and we did not make up the difference in the air, so we arrived about 40 minutes late. We got the bags, the car, and headed immediately out of town – drove for over an hour on the Interstate, which is boring on the brightest of days but really, really boring in the middle of the night … but we were still in bed by 12:30am.


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Marin, on the way to SFOMarin, on the way to SFO
Marin, on the way to SFO

She looks happy, but she's really thinking, "I can't believe I agreed to spend a week with these freaks."
Is it Art?Is it Art?
Is it Art?

No, it's just rain on the plane window, obscuring the snow-covered Sierras bathed in a powder-pink sunset.


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