It's been just about a week since I posted our harrowing journey to get to Fort Collins. Now, the details are fading so fast I just need to get them down.
Friday: Slept, hung out and did some work (Mandy and I were both working remotely and MVP couldn't get to work due to the flooding). Then we went to Mandy's parents because Mandy's warm and wonderful mother had prepared a birthday dinner for Mr. Fix-it--two of his very favorite foods--lasagna and pineapple upside down cake. Of course there was beer. Mandy's father and uncle recently returned from a trip to Alaska, which Uncle Grant blogged and I read faithfully. To say that Grant and I got on like a house on fire would be an understatement. Everybody had a fantastic time. It's really a big family lovefest--it's like we've been friends for years.
Saturday we got a leisurely start and walked the two blocks in to downtown under gorgeous skies and perfect temperatures and browsed the myriad gift shops with the coolest tchotchkes in the history of tchothchkes. They have not one but two olive oil and vinegar shops (I just used my wild mushroom and sage olive oil in a risotto and O.M.G.). We had lovely and inexpensive cocktails at a rooftop bar. There was about 15 minutes of light, intermittent rain, but we didn't even have to move inside. I cannot tell you how relaxing it was.
Then it was back to the kids' place for cocktails and a photo op before heading back downtown for dinner. And shots. And to a martini bar.
Sunday we woke up really well-rested because I had discovered the secret to sleeping on an air mattress (and this was a really good one [also, the kids offered us their beds and saying yes to that is something an old person would do, and we're not old]) is pushing the inflate button for 15 seconds every three hours while half-asleep. MVP, who has inherited the ability to make a damn fine breakfast (or any meal really) from his mother, fed us and we set off to a movie.
I almost died from the sheer amount of character the movie theatre had. There were couches. There was coffee in real cups and bus bins for you to leave them in. Instead of canned pre-movie-preview filler there were adorable ads that looked like the fifties someecards--one of which exhorted not to cause the owners kids to starve by bringing in outside food. Between that and their reasonable prices, why would you (asked the woman who has a purse that doubles as a concession stand 'cause highway robbery)?
I had made up my mind in the morning to not worry about whether or not we got back to San Diego that night. It was raining and there was definitely a possibility they would close the I-25 again and we wouldn't be able to get to Denver. I practiced a DBT skill called "radical acceptance"--a major accomplishment for a catastrophizing, control-freaky, adult-child-of-alcoholics like myself.
Get back we did--but late. So Monday I was stupid tired. The kind of tired where you see a red light and barely process what it is you're seeing in time to stop. But I've bounced back nicely and just in time because this past weekend was packed and this Friday it's off to Flagstaff for parents weekend at NAU.
You know all that stuff you're going to have time to do when you're an empty-nester? You won't. But that's okay.