I’m alive!

I haven’t posted on my blog in two weeks. That’s my record. It was due to a couple of things: I was in Utah/Colorado/New Mexico/Texas for over a week; most of the time driving or having fun. Then I came home and realized the my poor laptop is just about deceased. I’m still pouting about that and have been showing my computer “that’s what it gets” when it breaks on me. Only, my computer doesn’t really seem too sad up about my neglect. I have now resorted to using the kids’ computer which requires that I sit at a desk. A desk! How quaint.

After visiting several friends and family members in Utah, I helped my mother finish packing and we loaded up the moving van, her jalopy (otherwise known as a Ford Escort, which she had checked from head to toe and the guys at the garage swore up and down would make it across the country. Which it did), and a slightly scary trailer filled with food storage and a band saw (yeah. We got in a fight about the band saw. She’s moving into an apartment and she wanted to bring her band saw. And put it on her balcony. I can’t start thinking about this again.)

We abandoned the trailer half an hour south at my sister’s house after we realized it wasn’t registered. I was so thrilled, being the designated truck driver. The truck plus the trailer was a scary-long thing to be hauling around.

Have you read any of Pioneer Woman’s blog posts that she does about the swanky hotels she stays at when she travels around the country? In a similar vein, may I present the motel we stayed at our first night on the road. I shan’t tell you the name because it’s my little secret, but it’s in Monticello, Utah (yes, that’s as far as we made it the first day. We had a lot of last-minute things pop up.)

This motel was probably one of the dumpier places I’ve ever stayed in my life. Not dirty, just, well, let’s take a look:


Matching handles are completely passé. Or hadn’t you heard?

Who needs a lid that actually fits the toilet? So overrated.

The toiletries (or should I say, toiletry) were exquisite.

As was the art. It’s like I could actually hear the babbling brook. That is a brook, right? Or maybe a road?

I especially enjoyed the juxtaposition of the no-nonsense 80’s oak chair with the early-70’s faux-Spanish dresser/desk. And let’s not overlook the clashing lamp–still sporting it’s plastic wrapper. Who says small towns can’t be stylish?

12 thoughts on “I’m alive!

  1. I am trying not to laugh out loud because Ruby is asleep on the bead behind me.

    I am assuming you made it home safe, since you are posting, and can't wait to meet your mom!

  2. I've missed you. This was awesome. Love the sign on the back of the truck, and your motel recap is priceless!

  3. Of course you mother brought the saw. I can't imagine your mother not bringing a large, inapropriate-for-an-apartment power tool.

    I have stayed at that hotel in Monticello (pronounced "Mon-tuh-SELL-oh") more than once. If you think that's nice; you should see the town playground. Oh, the horror.

  4. I would have honked even if I wasn't going to Texas. I'm sure the neighbors will greatly appreciate your mother having a band saw. We borrow our neighbors all the time.

  5. I must have been really tired cause I didn't even notice the unmatching faucet handles! Actually, I didn't notice any of that stuff except the toilet tank lid. REALLY tired.

  6. Now that is some classy business going on in that hotel. How is it that they have a temple and those lodging conditions to offer their guests?

    I am happy to see that you decked out the moving truck, I bet that made it lots more fun to drive for 20+ hours. Did a lot of people honk? I totally would have as well.

    Welcome back, I am sure that you are loving driving your car after having made that trip. So so sorry to hear that you don't have your glorious new phone yet.

  7. That is quite the motel. Maybe they were going for eclectic chic and just missed the mark a bit/lot?

    How long will a band saw on a balcony last?

  8. If anyone reads this blog late enough to get my comment, I (the aforesaid Mom)didn't actually get to bring the band saw because it was in the trailer that had to be left behind because it was not registered or licensed, and we did not cotton to a couple dozen driving-an-illegal-trailer tickets en route. That trailer contained my whole year's supply, first aid and camping gear, and a lot of second string clothes. If Texas has a famine, I'm moving in with Jennie.

    Now that I'm here, I realize there is no place I could have put that band-saw except in my large bathroom.

  9. I had to go on and mention that my growing-up family was so free of class, that I actually thought the cellophane wrapper on the lamp shade was a professional designer's touch. So when, at age 18 or so, I carved a beautiful mahogany lamp for my mother, and even made a lampshade, I worried about where I could get cellophane in which to wrap the shade to give it that "touch of class". I ended up using Saran Wrap, and being very proud that it was as good as anything in the best stores!

    And that's why I wanted to bring my band saw. I love to make stuff.

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