And then we went home, the end.
I knew if I put off writing about our trip until we got home I'd be in trouble. I'm using the cop-out that I always used when writing stories in school. I'd come up with a fantastic plot, get the story going, and after a couple of pages (when I was tired of writing and/or found something better to do) I'd polish it off by saying something like the above sentence.
It's hard to get all worked up about the drive from Los Angeles back to Utah via Las Vegas, since we've done that drive about one gazillion times, and so has pretty much everyone I know. We stopped in Mesquite for the night, since my dad wanted one more chance to enjoy sleeping in a casino. I've got some things written in a notebook around here somewhere, and if I ever dig it up, I may elaborate. Suffice it to say that the kids continued to be fabulous, with the exception of Darcey who continued her screaming, but since we've heard it so often on this trip, no one could really work up any emotion for her anymore. As I predicted, she fell asleep in Provo, not 15 minutes from home. Why do they do that? Stay awake for the long, boring part of the trip and then fall asleep right when things are starting to look familiar and hope (and their bed!) is in sight.
So that about does it. The consensus is that the trip was a success. Next year my parents want to go to Seattle to visit a college roommate of my mom's. I'd love to do the Washington/Oregon coast, see some big trees, and purposely avoid Forks just on principle. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that we can scrape together enough money to go back to England next summer, or maybe the summer after that. I don't know what it is that makes me love traveling as much as I do, but even if all we do next summer is the drive from here to L.A. through Las Vegas again, I'd be happy.
I put all the pictures from our trip in a folder called "august 2009" on this site: