Of goats and dry-erase boards.
Much to your joy and delight, and I'm back at last to continue the tale of our super fun family vacation to California. You already know we enjoyed an early wake-up on the day on departure, undrinkable coffee, a welcoming committee in California, and some In-n-Out goodness.
So what lay in wait for your favorite little ol' Boring (sometime) blog post writer, her dashing fella, and their delightful cousin cohorts?
Find out in...
While drinking our suspiciously decanted beverages (of the Cold Rocky Mountain variety) and chowing on our tasty burgers and fries, Bruce, manning the wheel, drives us to his and Kristin'scrappy little kinda alright pretty neat completely kick arse house.
Even if it had been a really fancy kind of cardboard shack we'd still have been thrilled to be there.
Luckily, though, it wasn't. It was a very comfortable and airy house with a great kitchen (says the girl who has roughly 2.5 feet of usable counter space with great envy), great living room, and a FANTASTIC back yard with a pool.
Kristin immediately shows Josh and Patrick and me to our rooms. Walking into our room, we see on a little counter an array of goodies: locally sourced nuts, organic gummies, bottles of water, clean towels, a "California" t-shirt for me to sleep in, and a variety of California post cards and magnets. To top it off, there was a garbage bag tied up with a ribbon. TIED WITH A RIBBON. (Just want to make sure you get that she took the time to tie the bag with a ribbon.) "For your dirty clothes," Kristin explains. And this was the moment where it clicked: these people are in some competition I don't know about for Best Hosts Ever.
Score for the guests!
Josh, Patrick, and I all get settled in and, after a long day on dry planes, crack open our second beers. Second? Did I say second? Oops. I meant first.
After letting my burger and fries digest, I decide that I truly cannot go on without a shower. So, guess what? I took a shower. (I'm an excellent story-teller. I know.)
Once I was so fresh and so clean, I joined the whole gang in the backyard for some downtime.
Bruce, a lover of capturing moments, helped us have a little photo shoot. Please, try not to be too impressed with our natural modeling instincts. There were many more pictures. I narrowed it down for you. (You don't know it, but you thank me.)
After a little R&R, Bruce and Kristin gave us the option of inviting some of their friends over. We were all for it. After all, we didn't fly across the country JUST to see California, but to see these people and get a taste of their life on the West Coast! An all-points-bulletin was put out to their friends and after a while, we had a nice little group of people to be charmed by our accents, or to mock them. (Or both.)
The crew was: a very tall guy named Logan and his girlfriend Carrin (and I only know it's spelled that way because of some facebook creepin'), who is a vet; DJ and Laura and their pretty little baby girl Padgett, who I think loved me (I think all babies love me); and the owners of the house, Eric and Donna.
Now, there are a few things are are universal. One of them is that you can ALWAYS find someone with a connection to Perry, Florida, and the other is that you may not always be in the South, but you can still find some good old country stuff anywhere you go.
Allow me to elucidate.
Standing around, chatting, imbibing, and having a lovely time, the following words inexplicably flew from my mouth: "Y'all don't know stuff."
This was said while talking to Patrick, Bruce (a lover of Southern things--his wife, mainly--but not a Southerner himself) and Logan. Sadly, I do not recall the stuff that they did not know.
Makin' the South proud, y'all.
Bruce LOL'd at me, and Logan, I believe it was, said, "Um, did you just say," and then really emphasised the accent, "'Y'all don't know stuff?'" This was followed by more laughter. Lots of it. At my expense. And yes, Patrick laughed too. (Oh, my great and mighty defender.)
But you know what? I wasn't too fussed about it. Why? The fellow laughing at me was the boyfriend of Kristin and Bruce's veterinarian-turned-friend. And she, Carrin, the pretty, smart, thing, showed up with a goat. A Pygmy goat. Who was pregnant. With twins.
We had a goat at a yard party.
This perfectly illustrates my point that not everyone can be from the South, but you can find a little piece of the country anywhere!
The goat's name was Chloe, and I asked all kinds of questions. Things I learned:
The bottom of their hoofs are actually kind of soft.
The little horn thingies on her head are called scurs.
The little dangly things under her chin are scent markers.
You may have guessed that "horn thingies" and "dangly things" are not the technical terms, though I think they should be. It would make goat-specific-knowledge accessible to the lay person.
Poor little thing was impregnated by a full-sized goat, so not only did she have two babies, but she had two BIG babies. (She gave birth 2 days later.)
Oh, you might be wondering WHY Carrin brought the goat to the party. Well, Chloe's owner decided he or she didn't want the goat anymore, and that she should be put down despite being within a week or two of her delivery. Yah. Real swell, fella. Real swell. So, she was keeping the goat with her, and allowing her to enjoy one last party before parenthood, since labor was imminent.
Later that night, the crowd thinned and the only folks left besides us 5 were Donna and Eric, the owners of the house. Over dinner (steak and a wedge salad with blue cheese dressing--YUM), we chatted--the usual getting-to-know-you kind of questions. One of the first being, "Are you all from Jacksonville?"
We explained: Josh is, but Patrick and Rebecca live in Tallahassee. Actually though, they're from a small town about an hour away--Perry.
"Really?" says Donna. "My brother lives in Perry."
FOR REALZ. He didn't grow up there, but had settled there and works as a truck driver. So random. And that perfectly demonstrates my other point that one way or another, you can always find a connection to Perry, Florida. Perry is the center of the universe.
With the time difference and having gotten up at 4a.m., we were struggling to stay awake, so we finally departed for bed at 11p.m. California time. The bed was so super comfortable and I was so tired that I didn't even bother washing my face. If you know me, you know that's almost unthinkable. I've been completely smashed and still taken out my contacts, washed my face and applied my nighttime lotions before crashing. So, yeah, I was tired.
I passed out in about .01 seconds and slept heavily until 6:30 the next morning.
When 6:30a.m. rolled around, I opened my sleepy eyes, blinked as they adjusted to the sun coming through the window, and allowed myself a long, luxurious ssstttttrrrreeeettttccccchhhh, as I thought, "It's Saturday! Our first full day in California! And the best part is, we have three whole days after this!"
The coffee was put on and Bruce played MasterChef by preparing a tasty breakfast for us all. After allowing for a few minutes of laziness, we decided to get moving. Our plan: pack, load up, and head to SLO for a little wine-sipping and Pacific-Ocean-toe-dipping, and head back to home base the next day.
Sorry? What's that you ask? What is SLO? Gosh, sorry. I forgot that not everyone is as worldly and traveled as I am now. (Yes, you may roll your eyes at me.) SLO is San Luis Obispo--a California coastal county where you can go to the beach and then go into the hills for wine tasting that, Kristin promised, has more laid-back feel than Napa Valley.
So we packed.
Me: What do I wear for wine-tasting? I need to look cute, but not like I'm trying too hard! Um, the skinnies with my new flowy shirt and wedges! Yes! What if we go to dinner tonight? Something dressy? And what about tomorrow? Arg!
Josh: Which shirt do you like better with these shorts? Maybe I'll pack them both, just in case. I can't believe I don't have a better selection of tennis shoes with me, but these that I packed will look good.
Kristin: Rebecca! If you need to borrow something, let me know! I'm not sure what I'm going to wear. I'm thinking about taking this top, but then something else in case it gets a little cool. I think I like this with these. Oh, look, I forgot I had this top--cute! Hmm, okay, I think this will give me enough options. (She somehow mysteriously kept appearing in different tops or bottoms throughout the process. It was kind of incredible. One moment, she's in jeans and a tank. Next thing you know, it's shorts and a totally different shirt. I have no idea how she did it.)
Patrick: I'm done.
Bruce: I'm done.
When at last were were ALL done packing, we loaded up and hit the road for our 3 hour drive to the coast. Shortly after hitting the road, Kristin pulls out a dry-erase board. She and Bruce had long desired a dry erase board so they could write messages to their fellow road warriors, and had finally made their dream come true. Patrick, Josh, and I were along for the inaugural ride of the Board.
I won't go into too many details, but we generated a lot more laughs than scowls. I believe the photos speak for themselves.
When we were into the last hour of our trip, Bruce's cell phone rang with a call coming from a Washington area code. The caller wanted to speak to Josh. Now, I'm pretty sure they didn't mean Josh Green, but since there was a Josh in the car, Bruce passed the phone.
And Josh probably started a family feud.
We heard, of course, just one side of the conversation, but a few snippets were,
"You have who? You have Calvin? Oh, Gavin. Why do you have Gavin?"
"I don't know know. Why can't mom just call me herself and ask me?"
"I'm pretty disgusted with the whole situation right now. I'll talk to you later."
I'm the person who as a child faked feeling sick at a sleepover so my mom would come and get me because the other girls were making prank phone calls and it made me uncomfortable. You may not have guessed it, but I was and am an extremely cool person. (Also not a fan of practical jokes. At all. Not a good sport.) My mixed emotions had me 1) feeling bad for the person on the other line, 2) laughing in spite of myself, and 3) hoping whoever that was would figure out they hadn't spoken to the Josh they meant to speak to sooner than later.
Shortly after Josh's masterful performance, we saw that we had entered San Luis Obispo County and, driving into Pismo Beach, we caught glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. The shoreline is completely different than the Gulf and Atlantic Coasts I'm used to seeing. I was really hoping to catch a glimpse of a whale--isn't that the kind of stuff that happens on the West Coast?--but no such luck.
Soon thereafter we pulled up to the little house in the town of Pismo Beach (outside of which I'm pretty sure was Walter White's rolling office) that we would stay at that night. We dropped our bags, freshened up for a few minutes, and then prepared ourselves to head out for some grub and to sip some wine.
So what lay in wait for your favorite little ol' Boring (sometime) blog post writer, her dashing fella, and their delightful cousin cohorts?
Find out in...
Part II of our Totally Tubular
California Vacation!
While drinking our suspiciously decanted beverages (of the Cold Rocky Mountain variety) and chowing on our tasty burgers and fries, Bruce, manning the wheel, drives us to his and Kristin's
Even if it had been a really fancy kind of cardboard shack we'd still have been thrilled to be there.
Luckily, though, it wasn't. It was a very comfortable and airy house with a great kitchen (says the girl who has roughly 2.5 feet of usable counter space with great envy), great living room, and a FANTASTIC back yard with a pool.
Kristin immediately shows Josh and Patrick and me to our rooms. Walking into our room, we see on a little counter an array of goodies: locally sourced nuts, organic gummies, bottles of water, clean towels, a "California" t-shirt for me to sleep in, and a variety of California post cards and magnets. To top it off, there was a garbage bag tied up with a ribbon. TIED WITH A RIBBON. (Just want to make sure you get that she took the time to tie the bag with a ribbon.) "For your dirty clothes," Kristin explains. And this was the moment where it clicked: these people are in some competition I don't know about for Best Hosts Ever.
Score for the guests!
Josh, Patrick, and I all get settled in and, after a long day on dry planes, crack open our second beers. Second? Did I say second? Oops. I meant first.
After letting my burger and fries digest, I decide that I truly cannot go on without a shower. So, guess what? I took a shower. (I'm an excellent story-teller. I know.)
Once I was so fresh and so clean, I joined the whole gang in the backyard for some downtime.
 |
| Fresh, clean, coiffed, and hydrated. And chest-sweatered. Love ya, Patrick. |
 |
| Josh and Bruce taking it easy in that glorious California sunshine. |
After a little R&R, Bruce and Kristin gave us the option of inviting some of their friends over. We were all for it. After all, we didn't fly across the country JUST to see California, but to see these people and get a taste of their life on the West Coast! An all-points-bulletin was put out to their friends and after a while, we had a nice little group of people to be charmed by our accents, or to mock them. (Or both.)
The crew was: a very tall guy named Logan and his girlfriend Carrin (and I only know it's spelled that way because of some facebook creepin'), who is a vet; DJ and Laura and their pretty little baby girl Padgett, who I think loved me (I think all babies love me); and the owners of the house, Eric and Donna.
Now, there are a few things are are universal. One of them is that you can ALWAYS find someone with a connection to Perry, Florida, and the other is that you may not always be in the South, but you can still find some good old country stuff anywhere you go.
Allow me to elucidate.
Standing around, chatting, imbibing, and having a lovely time, the following words inexplicably flew from my mouth: "Y'all don't know stuff."
This was said while talking to Patrick, Bruce (a lover of Southern things--his wife, mainly--but not a Southerner himself) and Logan. Sadly, I do not recall the stuff that they did not know.
Makin' the South proud, y'all.
Bruce LOL'd at me, and Logan, I believe it was, said, "Um, did you just say," and then really emphasised the accent, "'Y'all don't know stuff?'" This was followed by more laughter. Lots of it. At my expense. And yes, Patrick laughed too. (Oh, my great and mighty defender.)
But you know what? I wasn't too fussed about it. Why? The fellow laughing at me was the boyfriend of Kristin and Bruce's veterinarian-turned-friend. And she, Carrin, the pretty, smart, thing, showed up with a goat. A Pygmy goat. Who was pregnant. With twins.
 |
| Say "hi" to Chloe. |
We had a goat at a yard party.
This perfectly illustrates my point that not everyone can be from the South, but you can find a little piece of the country anywhere!
The goat's name was Chloe, and I asked all kinds of questions. Things I learned:
The bottom of their hoofs are actually kind of soft.
The little horn thingies on her head are called scurs.
The little dangly things under her chin are scent markers.
You may have guessed that "horn thingies" and "dangly things" are not the technical terms, though I think they should be. It would make goat-specific-knowledge accessible to the lay person.
Poor little thing was impregnated by a full-sized goat, so not only did she have two babies, but she had two BIG babies. (She gave birth 2 days later.)
Oh, you might be wondering WHY Carrin brought the goat to the party. Well, Chloe's owner decided he or she didn't want the goat anymore, and that she should be put down despite being within a week or two of her delivery. Yah. Real swell, fella. Real swell. So, she was keeping the goat with her, and allowing her to enjoy one last party before parenthood, since labor was imminent.
 |
| Because, when you have a goat at a party, you get a group photo with it. |
Later that night, the crowd thinned and the only folks left besides us 5 were Donna and Eric, the owners of the house. Over dinner (steak and a wedge salad with blue cheese dressing--YUM), we chatted--the usual getting-to-know-you kind of questions. One of the first being, "Are you all from Jacksonville?"We explained: Josh is, but Patrick and Rebecca live in Tallahassee. Actually though, they're from a small town about an hour away--Perry.
"Really?" says Donna. "My brother lives in Perry."
FOR REALZ. He didn't grow up there, but had settled there and works as a truck driver. So random. And that perfectly demonstrates my other point that one way or another, you can always find a connection to Perry, Florida. Perry is the center of the universe.
With the time difference and having gotten up at 4a.m., we were struggling to stay awake, so we finally departed for bed at 11p.m. California time. The bed was so super comfortable and I was so tired that I didn't even bother washing my face. If you know me, you know that's almost unthinkable. I've been completely smashed and still taken out my contacts, washed my face and applied my nighttime lotions before crashing. So, yeah, I was tired.
I passed out in about .01 seconds and slept heavily until 6:30 the next morning.
When 6:30a.m. rolled around, I opened my sleepy eyes, blinked as they adjusted to the sun coming through the window, and allowed myself a long, luxurious ssstttttrrrreeeettttccccchhhh, as I thought, "It's Saturday! Our first full day in California! And the best part is, we have three whole days after this!"
The coffee was put on and Bruce played MasterChef by preparing a tasty breakfast for us all. After allowing for a few minutes of laziness, we decided to get moving. Our plan: pack, load up, and head to SLO for a little wine-sipping and Pacific-Ocean-toe-dipping, and head back to home base the next day.
Sorry? What's that you ask? What is SLO? Gosh, sorry. I forgot that not everyone is as worldly and traveled as I am now. (Yes, you may roll your eyes at me.) SLO is San Luis Obispo--a California coastal county where you can go to the beach and then go into the hills for wine tasting that, Kristin promised, has more laid-back feel than Napa Valley.
So we packed.
Me: What do I wear for wine-tasting? I need to look cute, but not like I'm trying too hard! Um, the skinnies with my new flowy shirt and wedges! Yes! What if we go to dinner tonight? Something dressy? And what about tomorrow? Arg!
Josh: Which shirt do you like better with these shorts? Maybe I'll pack them both, just in case. I can't believe I don't have a better selection of tennis shoes with me, but these that I packed will look good.
Kristin: Rebecca! If you need to borrow something, let me know! I'm not sure what I'm going to wear. I'm thinking about taking this top, but then something else in case it gets a little cool. I think I like this with these. Oh, look, I forgot I had this top--cute! Hmm, okay, I think this will give me enough options. (She somehow mysteriously kept appearing in different tops or bottoms throughout the process. It was kind of incredible. One moment, she's in jeans and a tank. Next thing you know, it's shorts and a totally different shirt. I have no idea how she did it.)
Patrick: I'm done.
Bruce: I'm done.
When at last were were ALL done packing, we loaded up and hit the road for our 3 hour drive to the coast. Shortly after hitting the road, Kristin pulls out a dry-erase board. She and Bruce had long desired a dry erase board so they could write messages to their fellow road warriors, and had finally made their dream come true. Patrick, Josh, and I were along for the inaugural ride of the Board.
I won't go into too many details, but we generated a lot more laughs than scowls. I believe the photos speak for themselves.
When we were into the last hour of our trip, Bruce's cell phone rang with a call coming from a Washington area code. The caller wanted to speak to Josh. Now, I'm pretty sure they didn't mean Josh Green, but since there was a Josh in the car, Bruce passed the phone.
And Josh probably started a family feud.
We heard, of course, just one side of the conversation, but a few snippets were,
"You have who? You have Calvin? Oh, Gavin. Why do you have Gavin?"
"I don't know know. Why can't mom just call me herself and ask me?"
"I'm pretty disgusted with the whole situation right now. I'll talk to you later."
I'm the person who as a child faked feeling sick at a sleepover so my mom would come and get me because the other girls were making prank phone calls and it made me uncomfortable. You may not have guessed it, but I was and am an extremely cool person. (Also not a fan of practical jokes. At all. Not a good sport.) My mixed emotions had me 1) feeling bad for the person on the other line, 2) laughing in spite of myself, and 3) hoping whoever that was would figure out they hadn't spoken to the Josh they meant to speak to sooner than later.
Shortly after Josh's masterful performance, we saw that we had entered San Luis Obispo County and, driving into Pismo Beach, we caught glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. The shoreline is completely different than the Gulf and Atlantic Coasts I'm used to seeing. I was really hoping to catch a glimpse of a whale--isn't that the kind of stuff that happens on the West Coast?--but no such luck.
Comments
Post a Comment
Say something clever or complimentary. Bonus points for both at the same time!