Death Valley and Vacation

Took another break from blogging so I could go to California with my family. Not just my little six person family. My mom, brother, two sisters and aaaaallllllll their kids, too.

This is just a few of them. Seriously.
It was quiet and relaxing. Calm. Placid. I felt renewed.

It started with a quiet, relaxing, calm, placid eight-hour drive. The children played quiet games, gazed out the window reflectively, and only asked "are we there yet" once every two hours.

And Truman! He never cried once. He never screamed so hard that it sounded like he was choking.

Delicious denial. Truly, not just a river in Egypt.

Sweet, sweet DVD system.

Have you ever made the drive from Cedar City to Southern California? Basically, from Saint George until Barstow you feel like you're driving through the deepest reaches of hell. I'm serious, it's profoundly depressing. I almost felt scared, like if we broke down there we would die of heatstroke and despair.

There were these grotesque plants crawling out of the ground like twisty, prickly, zombies, with branches that looked like they were trying to kill each other. Shudder.

I felt like they would respond with "yes, but we're alive! ALIIIIIIIIIVE!"

To which a spontaneously flowering bush in Kauai might sniff, "yes, but what a way to live."

When I told Tyler about my thoughts, he asked who the spontaneously flowering bush in Kauai was. And I was like, oh, we are. With our infrastructure and air conditioning and gleaming produce aisles. Let's try not to be snotty about it, OK?