Now Playing - Hold You In My Arms by Ray LaMontagne
Life -
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| Smothered Mushroom and Jack Enchilada from The Red Iguana |
Since we moved out to Maine, we'd only been back to our home town of Pocatello, Idaho one time, and that was just to buy a car, load it with essentials and pets and drive back to Maine. That was about two years ago, so we finally decided the time was right to head back to Big Potato Country and see our friends and family left behind.
We also left a large portion of our worldly possessions in assorted storage locations throughout the city and we needed to check up on them - make sure they were still safe, go through them for a few essentials we were missing and have a yard sale to get rid of a few we could live without.
Did I mention the Mexican food? We planned to eat a lot of REAL Mexican food, the one thing that above all else, Maine is lacking.
It was not a vacation at all, unfortunately, but we're glad we went. Flying out was about as much fun as you can expect from 10 hours of flying with the worst seats in the plane that was also the longest leg. I spent the time reading a novel about an EMP pulse that knocked out all electricity in the US, sending planes plummeting to their destruction. (ONE SECOND AFTER by William Forstchen) and trying not to overflow too dramatically into my seatmate's personal space. Economy class flight is not that pleasant for a 280 pound man. On our way out the first time, we were lucky enough to fly Jet Blue, a carrier that does a good job of making the flight pleasant. Delta, not so much. Watery cup of soda and .2 ounces of peanuts aside, the planes had no amenities worth mentioning, though the attendants were very nice and friendly. I really do wonder if the cans of soda they offer are heated or if the ice is a quick melt variety to get that perfect level of watery bleah between the cart and your hand. (I have heard high elevations affect taste buds so that could be part of it, maybe it affects carbonation and melting too?)
I tried to wave to North Dakota on the way, but I think some bald man in Kansas ended up being the recipient, alas.
My mom and aunt picked us up in Salt Lake City, Utah (Or, as some clever new shirts abbreviate it - SL,UT) Linz had picked out a small restaurant a few minutes from the airport - Red Iguana. IN a tiny building, behind a door covered in stickers for bands and causes (I wish I'd brought a Sasquatch to add) was some very excellent food. Some traditional and some funky, we really enjoyed the place.
I had forgotten how much I missed seeing mountains filling the background of our lives until stepping out of the restaurant and looking up at the crags surrounding the Salt Lake City Valley. Gorgeous.
Full of Mexican and packing our first of many leftover boxes of the trip, we piled into my mom's bright yellow Ford and headed to Idaho, three hours to the North.
We also left a large portion of our worldly possessions in assorted storage locations throughout the city and we needed to check up on them - make sure they were still safe, go through them for a few essentials we were missing and have a yard sale to get rid of a few we could live without.
Did I mention the Mexican food? We planned to eat a lot of REAL Mexican food, the one thing that above all else, Maine is lacking.
It was not a vacation at all, unfortunately, but we're glad we went. Flying out was about as much fun as you can expect from 10 hours of flying with the worst seats in the plane that was also the longest leg. I spent the time reading a novel about an EMP pulse that knocked out all electricity in the US, sending planes plummeting to their destruction. (ONE SECOND AFTER by William Forstchen) and trying not to overflow too dramatically into my seatmate's personal space. Economy class flight is not that pleasant for a 280 pound man. On our way out the first time, we were lucky enough to fly Jet Blue, a carrier that does a good job of making the flight pleasant. Delta, not so much. Watery cup of soda and .2 ounces of peanuts aside, the planes had no amenities worth mentioning, though the attendants were very nice and friendly. I really do wonder if the cans of soda they offer are heated or if the ice is a quick melt variety to get that perfect level of watery bleah between the cart and your hand. (I have heard high elevations affect taste buds so that could be part of it, maybe it affects carbonation and melting too?)
I tried to wave to North Dakota on the way, but I think some bald man in Kansas ended up being the recipient, alas.
My mom and aunt picked us up in Salt Lake City, Utah (Or, as some clever new shirts abbreviate it - SL,UT) Linz had picked out a small restaurant a few minutes from the airport - Red Iguana. IN a tiny building, behind a door covered in stickers for bands and causes (I wish I'd brought a Sasquatch to add) was some very excellent food. Some traditional and some funky, we really enjoyed the place.
I had forgotten how much I missed seeing mountains filling the background of our lives until stepping out of the restaurant and looking up at the crags surrounding the Salt Lake City Valley. Gorgeous.
Full of Mexican and packing our first of many leftover boxes of the trip, we piled into my mom's bright yellow Ford and headed to Idaho, three hours to the North.
The ROUS FAMILY -
3 comments:
It means a lot just to know you thought of waving to your family in North Dakota. I can't wait to read the rest of your stuff. Never been a big fan of the sequel. Too much waiting.
Yes, thank you very much for the wave! I hope the enchilada tasted as good as it looks.
They did! Also I had the best flautas I've had in years. Not fair to compare them to Maine food since I still can't find a place in Maine that serves them!
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