But I do think about blogging certain adventuresome, hilarious, or odd vacation happenings for when I am once again at home.
John and I took a little anniversary trip to Seattle last week/weekend: five whole days of vacation. It was great, especially since John’s abundant overtime at work has lately left me wondering, “Who is this guy I’m living with?” and “Hmmm. There are men’s dirty clothes in the hamper; John must have been home sometime this week.”
Oh, I exaggerate. I generally see my husband for at least 15 wakeful minutes a day.
So, you can see how it really didn’t matter much that while it was in the 50s and 60s just one week before we arrived in Washington, it didn’t get above 45 degrees the entire time we were visiting. It didn’t matter that it snowed. Quite a bit. The first evening in town we heard on the local news that this was, in fact, the latest in April that it has snowed in the Seattle area since 1972.
I guess our experience was truly unique. At least, unique for the past 35 years.
You might remember that in a previous post, I waxed eloquent about my love for cold weather and snowy winters. Honestly, I really would rather be cold than hot. Seeing as it is a muggy 85 degrees in Texas, I’ll take 40 degrees with snow any day!
No matter how often I see it (admittedly it’s not that often), I just can’t get over the beauty of snow!
Our second evening in town, we left Discovery Park in Seattle after a short hike just in time. As soon as we closed the car doors it started snowing. Since we had gift cards (thank you, dear family, for the Christmas gifts – we like to spread them out over as many months as possible), we stopped at a Macaroni Grill next to a shopping mall for dinner. I say “stopped at” as if it were on our way back to the hotel or easy to find; it was neither, but we had gift cards tempting us with the promise of free dinner. And since it was snowing, a “blizzard” according to my Texas-raised husband, and it was rush hour, and the Google directions were quite confusing, it took nearly an hour to drive 15 miles.
Oh, but it was all worth it when we got into our car after the meal and witnessed one of the funniest sights of our vacation…
A car pulls into the snow-covered mall parking lot right across from us. Now, it is probably close to 8:30 in the evening by this time. Still snowing quite a lot. Still freezing cold outside and windy. It is rather dark, so we don’t get a good view, but a man gets out of the driver’s side, pokes his head back into the car, and looks like he was wrestling a dangerous animal the way he keeps darting around. Finally we see the man stand up and a woman emerge from the car…wearing shorts…and house slippers! While we’re taking in the sight, the man bends down enough to allow the woman to hop on his back so he can carry her to….where? The convention for bizarrely, inappropriately dressed shopping mall patrons? We were laughing too hard to notice where they scurried off to.
And now that I think of it, the scene probably tickled my funny bone because I myself could be in that exact situation. Almost. I’m not entirely sure I would ever knowingly go out in public (or anywhere for that matter) in shorts when it was snowing.
I was in a similar situation, actually. Just last week. Without the snow, because, you know….Texas in April.
John and I went to the Wal-Mart to stock up on snacks for our vacation. It was a last-minute decision one evening, so we hopped in the car. We arrived at the Wal-Mart, John got out of the car, and I had my door opened and was about to step out when I notice – I’m wearing house slippers!
I’m sure that had it been snowing, and had I not been mortified to go into the Wal-Mart wearing house slippers, John would have gallantly carried me in piggyback. As it was, John stood staring at me as I retreated back into the car and closed the door, then opened the car door enough to tell John, “I can’t go in; I forgot to change out of my house slippers!”
We drove all the way back home so I could put on real shoes before heading back to do our shopping. Oh, yes we did. Because there was no convention for bizarrely, inappropriately dressed Wal-Mart patrons that evening.
Apparently you have to go to Seattle for that.
Our second evening in town, we left Discovery Park in Seattle after a short hike just in time. As soon as we closed the car doors it started snowing. Since we had gift cards (thank you, dear family, for the Christmas gifts – we like to spread them out over as many months as possible), we stopped at a Macaroni Grill next to a shopping mall for dinner. I say “stopped at” as if it were on our way back to the hotel or easy to find; it was neither, but we had gift cards tempting us with the promise of free dinner. And since it was snowing, a “blizzard” according to my Texas-raised husband, and it was rush hour, and the Google directions were quite confusing, it took nearly an hour to drive 15 miles.
Oh, but it was all worth it when we got into our car after the meal and witnessed one of the funniest sights of our vacation…
A car pulls into the snow-covered mall parking lot right across from us. Now, it is probably close to 8:30 in the evening by this time. Still snowing quite a lot. Still freezing cold outside and windy. It is rather dark, so we don’t get a good view, but a man gets out of the driver’s side, pokes his head back into the car, and looks like he was wrestling a dangerous animal the way he keeps darting around. Finally we see the man stand up and a woman emerge from the car…wearing shorts…and house slippers! While we’re taking in the sight, the man bends down enough to allow the woman to hop on his back so he can carry her to….where? The convention for bizarrely, inappropriately dressed shopping mall patrons? We were laughing too hard to notice where they scurried off to.
And now that I think of it, the scene probably tickled my funny bone because I myself could be in that exact situation. Almost. I’m not entirely sure I would ever knowingly go out in public (or anywhere for that matter) in shorts when it was snowing.
I was in a similar situation, actually. Just last week. Without the snow, because, you know….Texas in April.
John and I went to the Wal-Mart to stock up on snacks for our vacation. It was a last-minute decision one evening, so we hopped in the car. We arrived at the Wal-Mart, John got out of the car, and I had my door opened and was about to step out when I notice – I’m wearing house slippers!
I’m sure that had it been snowing, and had I not been mortified to go into the Wal-Mart wearing house slippers, John would have gallantly carried me in piggyback. As it was, John stood staring at me as I retreated back into the car and closed the door, then opened the car door enough to tell John, “I can’t go in; I forgot to change out of my house slippers!”
We drove all the way back home so I could put on real shoes before heading back to do our shopping. Oh, yes we did. Because there was no convention for bizarrely, inappropriately dressed Wal-Mart patrons that evening.
Apparently you have to go to Seattle for that.
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