Getting away...

The lovely coffee table book was gifted to me last Christmas by my son. He was dropping subtle hints that it had been over a year since I had visited him in the state he now calls home. Each phone call he would end it by saying, "When are you going to come visit me?" Mom knew it was time to visit, but was just waiting for a little slow down or lull at work.

So here we are, approaching two years since we've been out there,
still waiting for that little lull,
that little slow down...

A couple weekends ago we were on a little weekend road trip with my sister and her husband. Guys in the front seat, girls in the back seat and me sporting my groovy reading glasses and stitching in hand. The phone rings, it is the sonny boy. Dad has him on blue-tooth, so I'm hearing both sides of the conversation, with he and his dad. The boy is telling his dad there are cheap airline flights to Denver. Before I knew it the dh was handing over his credit card to his brother (yes, his brother is my sister's husband...sister's married brothers) and uncle Bruce is reading off the dh's credit card numbers and the son is booking the tickets. While all this is going on, I'm stressing from the back seat, thinking I can't be gone then, that's when the November Word Play chart releases, I then think holy schmolly I can't be gone that long, I relay that thought to the dh...he tells me, "yes, you can" in a somewhat firm sounding voice.

So folks, I'm taking a few days off...
I'll need to put in some long days
before I leave
but am looking forward to our visit.

I did tell the dh that there are going to be rules
though
on this trip.
I'm scared of heights.
I wasn't aware of this
until the son moved to Denver.
Maybe it's the mountains,
maybe its the thin air,
everything out there just seems so big and vast...
it makes one feel so tiny.

So the rules are:

1. I've already called shot-gun...I get sick in the back seat when driving in the mountains.

2. No resident of Colorado is going to drive the car when I'm a passenger in the car. This means all the driving is going to be done by the dh, peroid. You see the dh drives like an Iowa farmer out checking the crops, if you don't know about this type of driving, just think s-l-o-w. This is the speed I feel safest at when riding on the sides of a mountain with hair pin turns quickly approaching. The son's city driving method is, you have to get up to 30 mph (cause that's the speed limit) from one stop light to the next. Then you slam on the brakes and then do it all over again in one city block, meanwhile Mom's suffering from whip-lash and her food feels like it's tickling her tonsils... This is also the son that is always in need of new brake pads...

3. No hiking a snow/icy glacier this trip either... I'm a whimp, and I'll be the first to admit it.

So we are going to take in the sights of Colorado, the Aspen trees should be at their peak and I'm hoping for some good picture taking. The son mentioned a train ride. I've always wanted to go on a scenic train ride, so I agreed. I asked him if it was scary, he informed me the tracks ran along a river. In hind-sight, he really didn't answer my question. That should have been my first clue...gesh you would have thought I never raised any children. When they dance around your question, not really answering it, that's a red flag, always.

So I always like to research things,
you know like doing a Google search...
So I Googled
Royal Gorge Colorado.
Now I know my vocabulary.
I know what royal means
and
I know what a gorge is.
I just never put two and two together...

Remember I am a mid-western farm girl
and it is pretty flat in these parts,
where I live.

I'm sweatin' bullets folks,
in my Google search
I dug up some info.
There's this thing
called the
Royal Gorge Bridge...
something about it
being the highest
suspension bridge in the world,
at 1053 feet above land.

What have I gotten myself into?
I'm now pretty sure
that the husband
and
son
are talking about mom
behind her back,
poking fun at how freaked out
she's going to be...


So I need your help on this...
Any Colorado readers out there?

If so...

Because if I do,
maybe I should ride in the trunk.

Please tell me
there is a way to that train ride
from Denver
without crossing that bridge,
cause I get sweaty pits
and
white knuckles
just looking at that picture....


So now
if I could just figure out a way
to convince the airport folk
that these sweet little scissors,
at just 2 1/4" long,
are not a weapon...
Do they not know
how much stitching
I could get done in two hours
of un-interrupted time?
{sigh}



Enjoy your weekend,
Brenda