Sunday, December 28, 2008

Family and airplanes, and we are now alone. . .

Friday did not go as planned. We were at the Academy of Sciences by 10:30. Traffic was awful in the park. We parked several blocks away and hoofed it to the museum. LINES, LINES, LINES. Since we had done the line in September we could tell it was at least 2 hours to get in. Even our members' line was an hour. We went to the Conservatory of Flowers instead. It was wonderful as always. While there we heard (around noon) that the A of S had closed basically, no one else would be allowed in line. Too many people. Then we went to the Cliff House area. Lots of trails to walk and then into the Cliff House for drinks.

Saturday to SFO in the morning, stop at Costco for fixings for the family dinner, stop at the flower mart just because, and then home. We have sent two home to Texas and two were to join us for dinner. Erik called and said they were too sick to come, they caught something in Portland and didn't think we would want them to share. So nephew Lee didn't get to see Erik and Jennifer at all this trip.

We dropped Marty's sister at the Oakland airport this morning at 6:00. And we were home and back in the bed by 6:30. Lee and Phil left this morning for San Francisco and will fly out Tuesday. But we won't see them anymore this trip.

This Christmas was one of the best. I only had a minor meltdown. We kept it simpler and had the luxury of the "guest" house to use. That reduced the stress of being the perfect hostess. Lee and his partner wanted family history and info about Lee's mother. Marty and his sister and brother talked about their parents and family. We continued to tell tales. We continued to laugh until the drop off at the airport. Then we cried a little.

Marty and I are alone again. Except for the piles of towels and sheets to wash.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Christmas is always a time when memories race thru our heads as we spend time with friends and family. I have so many fond memories of theis time of year. Janet helped me bring some of thoise memories to the top like cream on that milk bottle that the milkman used to leave at our doorstep.