Probably Won't Go Back

In December 2014, DH and I went to Las Vegas for roughly a week.  While we stayed at a hotel/vacation club just off the famous Strip, we didn't do anything related to the casinos, shows, gambling, etc. We used our very nice room/condo/suite as a home base and made daily excursions way out of town.  Like the Hoover Dam, Lake Mead, and Death Valley.  It was a surprisingly enjoyable trip (I'd resisted Vegas for years and years) that I blogged about here and we decided that we would probably be interested in doing a similar Vegas-based trip in the future.

Well, earlier this month, we went back.  The trip planning started this way: last Spring, DH got two vacation promo phone calls pretty much back to back.  The first one sounded like a great deal, it came with 3 nights and all sorts of free goodies, tickets, etc, plus a voucher for another vacation (3 days/2 nights) in either the Caribbean or Hawaii in exchange for sitting through a 90-minute presentation. He thought it sounded so good that he signed up for it.  And then the second one, for only $99 total (and an hour presentation), we got 3 nights at the same vacation club type of place we'd stayed in 2014, so he bought that one also, planning to dovetail the two trips into a week in Vegas.

We figured that with wedding planning, DD1's living with us during her student teaching (and possibly until her wedding in May 2018), her college graduation plus the holidays, DH and I would probably be ready to run away screaming go on a short vacation right about the time January arrived.  A nice little breather before resuming winter in Michigan, more wedding details, the bridal shower, last minute wedding madness, and the Big Day in May.  So we booked our two hotel stays(second promo for the first half, then first promo to end with), bought round trip plane tickets, scheduled the time off from work, and waited for our escape from reality vacation to arrive.

It arrived right after a very frigid spell in early January.  In fact, the morning we headed for the airport, the weather was a balmy 57 degrees Fahrenheit with rain. That warm weather was only supposed to last another day or two, and then cold and snow were going to return.  We, on the other hand, would be experiencing sunshine and mid 60s in Nevada.  Not to mention the fact that we would be temporarily removed from all the drama  related to DS1s marriage that has become our daily life. We couldn't wait to get to Vegas!

But we had to wait.  In fact, we waited out a two hour delay at the airport in Lansing while our plane got refilled with hydraulic fluid and checked for any other important repairs.  Good thing our itinerary included a three hour layover in Minneapolis, or we would have been scrambling (unsuccessfully) for another flight out of Lansing, like most of the other people who had seats on our plane.  We finally got to board the plane, and flew away to Minneapolis, deplaning about twenty minutes before our flight to Las Vegas was supposed to board.  Quick bathroom stops, and then we hoofed it across the airport to our departure gate.  Where we learned that the inbound flight (that would become our outbound to Vegas) had only just landed, so there would be roughly a half hour delay while passengers deplaned, and the plane was cleaned and restocked supplies and fuel.

The weather in Minneapolis was vastly different than the weather in Lansing.  Instead of fifties and rain, there was low twenties, and driving snow.  Every plane had to be deiced before proceeding to the runway.  They were deicing about five planes at a time, and we still had to wait in line behind three other planes before ours got to the deicing area.

While most people settled in to sleep, or watch a movie, or read, I totally geeked out about being deiced.  What can I say, it was my first time going through that process, and I loved every minute of watching the equipment and the equipment operators put the plane through the deicing procedure.  I took tons of pictures through the window, using the excuse of wanting to show them to the grandkids once we got home.  In reality, I'm 46 going on 6 sometimes. . . It was just cool.  And, honestly, I think it would be pretty neat to have a shot at sitting in the little cab on the end of the boom arm working the sprayer controls way way up in the air.

waiting our turn

first, the pink spray

get the wingtips good

then, go over everything with the green spray

The flight itself was pretty uneventful.  All those delays, but a nice smooth trip through the air.  Sometimes I had a clear view to the ground below, and other times we were flying above the clouds with sunshine above us. One super science nerd part of the flight was where we had clouds below us, and sun above us, and the sun shone at just the right angle to make a rainbow on top of the clouds.  Not just the arc-type rainbows seen from the ground, but more of a full-circle bulls-eye rainbow!

topography

cool circle rainbow on clouds below (and snowflakes on the window)

Our time in Nevada alternated between enjoyable and can-I-go-home-now? On the good side, I actually felt like braving the crowds and craziness of the Strip in order to go see the fountain at the Bellagio.  So the second evening there, we parked, walked to the fountain, waited for the next scheduled 'show' of water, lights and music, watched that, and walked back to where we'd left our rental truck.  Less than an hour, total, of nighttime escapades on the Vegas Strip.  I felt quite accomplished, LOL.  (I hate, hate, hate, crowds, and I am vehemently opposed to gambling, so the Strip doesn't quite appeal to me).  I'd set my mission: see the fountain, and I'd successfully achieved that with no extra bullshit from weirdos on the Strip  unplanned events.

Feeling buoyed by that excursion, I decided that I would like to go back in the day time, preferably early in the morning to avoid crowds, to see some of the statuary at Caesar's Palace up close.  So DH and I did that on another day (one of the ones we had to attend a presentation, so didn't have time to be gone from the city all day).

I texted this picture to DD2, who replied that Caesar was missing some stab marks.

I responded that they were probably behind him, an angle you can't get to from the sidewalk.

Hippocampus, but of course I prefer the anatomy of the horsey end rather than the fishy one

I also loved the many trumpet playing angels on top of the walls.

Other aspects of our in-Vegas time weren't nearly so enjoyable. The Can-I-Go-Home-Now parts. There were those presentations to attend, at which they try to talk you into buying what they are selling (which we didn't, with the dead honest excuse that we are totally tied up financially with DD1s upcoming wedding).Those enticing free gifts they'd promised turned out to be not that usable (like a handful of free show tickets, with not a single matching pair of shows, and rather than a $100 dinner voucher for a Vegas steakhouse they substituted a $100 gift card to restaurants.com which is rather limited in where and how you can use it--and only good for about half off your bill where ever you do manage to dine with it). 

Another big negative was the second place we stayed, which was off Strip and therefore you'd think quieter.  It ended up being kind of a dump (especially compared to the very nice condo/apartment--with full kitchen--that we first stayed at) and was also impossible to sleep at due to the live bands playing on the street till all hours of the morning. Our room was six floors up and the music was still so loud that not only did the windows rattle, the beds shook!  Seriously. I lay awake long after one a.m. being able to recognize 80's rock songs easily because the music was that loud.  Concrete walls, six stories height (so, 60 feet?), and windows shut, and you could still clearly hear the music from the street below. Not that the 80's music was bad, it's my favorite genre.  But it changed along about quarter to two to some other music that I really can't stand.  So not a good night at all.

Word to the wise: If you don't love being kept awake all night, stay away from accommodations on Fremont Street.

We stayed there exactly one night before going somewhere else--unfortunately on our own dime because the company the trip was booked through refused to move us to one of their other properties on the original list of choices they'd emailed DH.  Really, that experience soured the trip for DH & I, and we both agree that most likely we won't choose to vacation in Vegas ever again. Not even as a home base for outdoorsy excursions.


(Stay tuned for a post about the non-city portion of our trip.)

Acquiring Expensive Tastes

After I had my unplanned dismount (aka, a crash) off of a horse last month, I went shopping for a new riding helmet--as you should do after smacking your helmet into the ground with your head still in it.  The old one sports an interesting sunburst pattern on the lower right side of the back of the helmet now, and if you push on it, it yields a bit, displaying its new squishy spot.

I had actually been toying with the idea of a new helmet for several months before having that unfortunate ride that ended badly.  So when I went to purchase a new helmet, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to get.  Not, as my previous two helmets had been, a cheapy schooling helmet.  It wasn't just that I'd sustained a nasty concussion in my schooling helmet (although, honestly, that fact did come to mind being as I'd had other crashes, in my younger years, wearing my sturdy black velveteen helmet from my 4-H days without every being concussed).  No, I have been thinking, more than once or twice, about the possibility of getting back into showing in the next few years, and if I was going to buy a new helmet, I wanted one that was show worthy.  That way, if I did decide to dip my riding boots back into a show arena, I wouldn't have to get another new helmet first.

So, what I was shopping for was a matte black riding helmet, in the $150 range.  Quite a bit more cash than the colorful, shiny schooling helmets available for about $50 at the nearby farm supply and feed stores.  And, since I was changing style and most likely brand, I needed to go try on a  helmet before buying one (because each brand and style all fit slightly differently).  I wanted something 1. matte black and show worthy, 2. comfy and well fitting, 3. that was within my predetermined budget (ironically, I had received $$ from my kids for Christmas with the instructions that I was to put it toward the new riding helmet I'd mentioned wanting to buy back in November.)

On January 2nd, I traveled 45 minutes away to the reputable English riding tack shop to make my purchase.  There, I explained to the clerk what I was looking for, and after asking me a couple of questions, he took me to the helmet display and handed me one to try on.  Just as soon as that helmet settled on my head, I was in love.  With the helmet, not the good looking young clerk, LOL.  It felt so natural, like a part of my head, rather than how I was used to helmets feeling (a little heavy, a little awkward, and perhaps a little confining if they weren't too big).  I tried on a couple of others, as the first one was a bit more than I had planned to spend, but kept coming back to that first one.  It just felt so right.

I ended up buying it.  Since I'd been paid for working that horse over Christmas, I justified the slight extra cost by using some of my pay to make up the difference between what I'd planned to spend, and what the helmet cost.  The first time I rode in my new helmet, I knew I'd made the right decision. It's hard to explain, but having a helmet that I didn't really feel, that wasn't subconsciously taking up some of my thinking, just made the ride all that much better, easier.

I also knew that I'd just acquired another expensive taste.  Just like wearing a pair of full seat breeches for the first time after knowing nothing but knee patch breeches, after wearing my new helmet I knew I could never go back to the cheaper option.

(For those who are curious, what I bought was the One K Defender.)

A Month of Grandkids

Actually, its been nearly five weeks.  With the exception of weekends, a couple of days over New Year's, and a much needed week's vacation for DH and I, the grandkids have been living with us for over a month now.  Some of that time, they were dropped off on a Sunday night and not picked up again until DS1 got off work on Friday afternoon.  But then DH and I objected to this schedule, pointing out that in families where both parents work, children only see their parents from after work until bedtime most weekdays, so why couldn't they go home from the time DS1 got off work until bedtime each night. So, for the past few weeks the kids got several hours a day at home with their parents before returning to our house for bedtime. 

This afternoon, they went home, presumably to stay. 

I have mixed feelings about that.  I'm whupped, and am glad for a break. To say its been tough caring for children and doing the multiple times a day school run (3-day-a-week 1/2-day preschool and 5-day all-day Kindergarten) on top of trying to do my own job (and shuffling my work hours mornings some days,  late afternoon others) is an understatement. I'm also glad that the kids can sleep in their own beds at night and play with their own toys.  On the other hand, this returning home is a disruption to the predictable schedule that DH and I had developed for them, and I'm hoping the change wont be too traumatic.  I hope the progress K3 made in school during her time with us won't come to a stop, putting her behind again in Kindergarten. Also, on that other hand, I'm not sure how long this will last.  After all, it was roughly a month between when they went home the last time and when events transpired to make it necessary for them to return to our care.  All that up and down, back and forth is hard on young ones.  They were convinced, when they first came back in December, that they had done something to make their parents send them away.  And you can't exactly tell small children that a parent has problems which is the real reason they couldn't be at home when Daddy isn't there.

This is so, so hard.  I wouldn't wish mental health and substance issues on any family.  It's emotionally draining. It hurts so bad to see your loved ones go through it.  It is also physically exhausting being the helper and the refuge for the little ones.  Spiritually I go back and forth between praying for Gods Will to be done, and telling Him how I think the situation should be resolved.  I also find it impossible, as time goes on, not to take a side.  I am on the side of the grandchildren.


On the positive side, it has been nice to spend extra time with the grandkids.  Its been really nice to do things with them that get overlooked at home, given the turmoil in that house.  And, most times, the kids were able to go outside and play if they wanted to, even in the most 'rotten' cold weather.

a single digit high temperature day

If you don't mind a huge mess, you should try two small kids, a box large enough to sit in, and a shopping bag full of packing peanuts.  It was hours of fun (and double the hours to clean up!).