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Saturday the 4th was a much needed break from the madness that had been surrounding our trip.  Mom and Dad had stayed at Aunt Dianne’s weekend home (it’s just up the hill from Possum Bottom) and Mike and I had taken over their bed. Until you’ve actually experienced this particular bed, in this particular place it is hard to describe how wonderful a night’s rest you can actually achieve.  I woke before Mike and Jaz, and for the first time I was able to get out of bed without Mike jerking awake.  Poor guy was wiped out and quite cozy.  I left him and Jaz snoring softly and made some coffee.  With the cool morning air laying softly on the ground like a blanket in a way that only a thick Southern climate can create, I walked up the way to Aunt Dianne’s to find Mama out watering the plants and Daddy sitting on the porch enjoying the quiet and the view (ie. my Mama).  We sat and talked for quite a while in the quiet of the morning, just enjoying the day.  Eventually, my coffee cup ran dry and I nudged Daddy to head down the hill and make waffles for us for breakfast.

The Smoke House © Carol

Mike was up and puttering around when we came back down to the house, so I snagged him.  Mama and I dragged him back up the hill to show him Aunt Dianne’s place.  We took him across the little bridge on the property and up the trail through the woods instead of along the road.  It’s a pretty walk and it gives a nice view of the cabin as you come out of the underbrush.  I love Aunt Dianne’s cabin.  It’s where our family Christmas get togethers are held; and, it just has an ambiance to it that is the quintessential country cabin.  Not only that, but she has my Mama’s paintings up on her walls and I really wanted to show them to Mike.  I knew he would appreciate them as much as I do…I was right.  My Mama has some real talent – with so many things.

We wandered back down to Possum Bottom and partook of my Father’s top notch waffles. I really do not eat waffles – ever – except at home.  I’m not sure what it is about Daddy’s waffles; but, I never pass on them.  Showers were taken, chit chat was had, and lunch at Bob’s occurred.  Lunch at Bob’s is a necessity to break one into the culture of the Ramer-Grady area.  You’ve not truly experienced it until you’ve eaten at Bob’s and had a Tex’s pizza.  Mike got to experience 50% of the criteria.  Bob’s is a unique dining experience to say the least.

Me and Debbie

After lunch, we went back down to the house and Aunt Dianne and Uncle Bobby and their grandkids stopped by to say hello and check in on us, see how our trip went, etc.  Not long after they departed, Debbie arrived and – time to get shaking…She did so much work Saturday afternoon and all I did, really, was sit around and kinda watch.  I felt bad about not contributing more in the way of assistance; but, if I had, it would have been a case of too many cooks in the kitchen.  Instead,  Jaz made dinner – chicken fajitas – and we chowed down.  Then, we all camped out in the living room and we introduced Mike to Support Your Local Sheriff and Support Your Local Gunfighter.  While we were watching the movies, Debbie worked on the dress and I worked on knitting a gossamer shawl.  It was a great evening – even though I was pretty sure Debbie was tempted to burn the dress a time or two through the evening because it was being such a pain in the derriere. It turned out absolutely lovely, though.

So, what happened after our adventures in travel on the way to our wedding?  Here’s the rest of our Friday…

Poor Debbie was struck down by allergies and associated massive headache on Friday so she was unable to join us for Mama and Matt’s birthday dinner.  However, the dinner was spectacular.  A bit of back story, for those unfamiliar with the peculiarities of my erstwhile familial unit…ie. us crackpots need some explaining.  My father has taken particularly wicked delight in finding various and sundry ways of surprising my mother for more years than I care to spell out here.  The cost of hair dye is more than enough reminder of my encroaching age, thank you very much.

Anyway, never mind that…as I was saying, my father delights in such antics and over the years he has managed to pull various people into aiding in his nefarious plotting and planning.  No matter the age, sex, distance, etc – if you are capable of assisting, interested in assisting and able to zip it (ie. not spill the beans/spoil the plotting and planning that can and has taken six month or more to pull together)…you are most likely going to be pulled into one plot or another at some point.  The amazing thing is how much people who are otherwise quite sane and collected can become plotting, devious miscreants when my father gets that gleam in his eye.  People seem to just fall over themselves to make it happen, with the cries of “You must tell us all about it!” or “Oh that’s so sweet!”  – for those of you who don’t know my father other than in passing, I will give you a moment to collect yourselves from the universal state of shock it tends to impart….for the rest of you – stop laughing already.

If y’all are quite done?  Alrighty then…as I was saying (really, I was getting there)…my father loves to plot.  I am the good girl and ne…ok, I can’t even type it out.  I’m his evil side kick as often as I possibly can be – have been since I was 16 years old and dropped them off at the airport in the  middle of a school day…and, I was in the plotting and planning of mom’s surprised birthday dinner on Friday.  Remember that Friday?  The one I mentioned two paragraphs ago?  Yeah, that one…Sooooo…when Mike and I arrived on Friday afternoon (with license in hand due to a pit stop by the courthouse)…I offhandedly mentioned to my mother that I wanted to take Mike and Jaz out that night.  I hoped it didn’t cause any conflict with any plans she might have…?  Mama was thrilled and relieved…because my father had told her he was taking her out for dinner that night and she had worried about just bailing on us as soon as we got in.  Sneaky sneaky…I am my father’s daughter.

My Family

Mom and dad arrive at the restaurant and there were Matt and Julia and the girls (sans the littlest).  Mama thinks it’s a great coincidence; after all, Matt’s birthday is Saturday so naturally they would drive all the way to Montgomery to have dinner at the Outback that she and dad just happened to choose to go to for dinner.  Then she saw the table they were lead to and thought it was an aweful big table…around which time Mike, Jaz and I walked into the restaurant. The look of surprise and then pure joy on her face made that cross country trek – even the twelve hours in a VW Bug (cute car, you will never get me to buy one if something with better suspension is available) worth every single second.  That look – and, the joy in my mama’s eyes for the rest of the weekend – was more priceless to me than anything Mike could possibly have scrounged up, no matter how fancy or pricey.  It was the best present, the best gift that the man I love could have ever granted me…that look on my mama’s face.  He was so sweet and loving to her and my family.  It was a great evening.  It was one for the memory books.  Great food, laughter like fine wine and love to warm you from the inside out.

That night brought home to me how very unique my family is.  Oh, I’ve always known we walked to a different beat.  We are far from perfect; but, we are family.  No matter what you do.  No matter where you go.  No matter how long you are away.  You are always welcome Home with a squeal, a hug, and more love than you’d ever realized could be showered upon you.  It makes me wish I had a way of sharing that experience with everyone around me.  Everyone deserves to know the open, welcoming, unequivocal love of Family.

I have to say that it’s always interesting when the universe at large tosses such a plethora of roadblocks in your way as if to ask, “Are you truly certain you wish to do what you are setting out to do?”

One such example of this type of event is our trip to Alabama this last weekend to be married.  If any of you have ever seen the movie Forces of Nature you will be snickering and wondering if I am possibly trying to play on the movie.  I assure you…all I am about to write is exactly what happened from the evening of September the 1st to the evening of September the 2nd.  Bear in mind, we had to be in Montgomery County, Alabama before the courts closed on the 3rd so we could have our license in hand for the service on Sunday the 5th.

Wednesday, 1st September 2010, 7PM PST:

The car is packed and we begin the drive to Los Angeles where we will stay the night so not to be rushed in the morning; and, to avoid having to deal with rush hour traffic into LA. On the way, my phone rings. This truly is as unusual as that sentence makes it sound. I answer and it is my bank’s fraud department worried about some transactions that had taken place. They are breaking up pretty badly and I lose the connection. I figure I will deal with it once we reach the hotel.

Wednesday,  1st September 2010, 9PM PST:

We reach the hotel and get checked in.  All seems to be in order.  I pull out the laptop and log in to my bank…to discover that the temporary hold that had been placed on my card was due to $339.43 in various charges to sites such as Match.com and CCBILLEU.com (which I later found out tends to service the credit card needs of adult entertainment websites).  After much difficulty, I managed to get the fraud department on the line (that number is now permanently saved into my phone, it was so hard to get) – I had them laughing and they were extremely helpful.  The young man commiserated with me about the fact that I was heading to a state that did not have any BoA locations (not kidding) and said that if I had time to hit a local bank before we depart LA in the morning, I would be able to get a temporary card.  So, all my money was refunded and my card canceled.  But, no biggie – I will get a temporary one come morning.  Tuck ourselves into bed in a surprisingly nice room and sleep fairly well.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 7AM PST:

All packed up with the room paid for and breakfast on the way, all looks great.  Though – could someone please explain to me the portions provided by American restaurants?  Seriously.  I got what I thought would be a light breakfast…yogurt, granola, fresh fruit and an English muffin.  The bowl of granola was HUGE.  I expected it to be small like the bowl for the yogurt…mistake on my part for not asking first.  And, they brought milk with the granola which I had no interest in consuming. The fruit was three times what I expected (though very tasty).  I hate leaving food behind; but, there was no way I was going to eat all that food.  It astounds me that you aren’t offered a portions option or something – they won’t even let you order from the child’s menu if you are over a certain age, even if that is all you care to eat.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 9AM PST:

The bank has opened, we have found it without trouble (thank you GPS) and I am one of the first customers of the day – only to find out that since my account was opened in Texas, not California, they cannot provide me a temporary card.  This does not make me feel overly thrilled, I assure you.  So, I withdraw some money – part in cash and part in a cashier’s check.  I just really did not feel comfortable walking around with that much cash on my person.  As I’m leaving the bank, it dawns on me that I have an account with another bank, and I have the debit card for that bank in my wallet.  We look for the closest branch (thank you GPS) and find that it is literally in the same parking lot.  So, in I go and deposit the cashier’s check and all is right with our world.  Working debit card, and a half hour early to the parking garage.  Catastrophe avoided and we are ahead of schedule – always a good thing when girding up to enter the maelstrom that is LAX.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, Noon PST:

The flight is just now boarding.  We were supposed to be departing at this point in time.  I’m a touch concerned since our connecting flight is so close to ours; but, I’ve never missed a flight in my life and figure we will make up some time in the air…until they discover a used needle in the plane’s lavatory and take 20 minutes to do what should have taken merely two.  We arrive at Houston’s George Bush airport three minutes before our departing flight …well, departs.  Yeah.  We arrive in terminal C…our departing flight is in terminal B.  Panic sets in until the pilot informs us that the flights know we were delayed and we just need to get to our connecting flights as quickly as possible.  We arrive at our gate – to find no plane to board.  It had left on time.  Wonderful!

The “customer service” individual tells us that the best they can do is put us on standby for the last flight of the night which departs at 8:05 PM CST.  We ask about any other flights and are told that all flights through Monday are booked solid.  Our only option is standby.  So…off we go to sit standby for the next departing flight.  We had a grand time while waiting.  Lots of laughter and teasing.  A young girl on her way home for the weekend from college to visit her family and an older gentleman whose wife was not quite understanding what was happening when he tried to call and let her know had both been on the same delayed flight as us.  This meant there were four of us sitting standby for the upcoming flight.  Mike and I determined that if there were only two seats available, we’d give up ours and just drive to Birmingham…where my bag was already headed without us….my bag that had my wedding dress, pearls, shoes, etc in it.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 8:05PM CST:

The standby calls were made and only two seats were available.  Time to catch the bus over to the rental car terminal and see what was available for a one way trip from Houston to Birmingham.  We finally find one that won’t cost us an arm and a leg – only to have them tell me my card was declined.  I could not believe it.  I had deposited my money and thus knew the money had to be in the account, right?  We go over to the ATM machine only to find a lonely 58¢ in said bank account.  Because it had been a cashier’s check and not cash, they had not instantly credited it to my account.

We attempt to use Mike’s card, but it is just a touch short of what we needed to get the car.  I am about ready to throw my hands in the air and give up when I recall that Mike has a PayPal debit card.  I ask him if he has it with him.  He does.  I ask the rental car guy (Kenneth) if the rental terminal has wifi…it does not.  So, we head back to the airport to use the wifi service.  After painful moments attempting to connect, I manage to transfer money from my original bank account via PayPal to Mike’s PayPal account – where he instantly has it available on his debit card.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 10:35PM CST:

We have successfully acquired a vehicle for a one way trip to the Birmingham airport – where my father and son will make a second trip (since the first one was a bust) and pick us and my bag up and take us down to Montgomery to pick up the license…we are on our way. The drive was actually quite uneventful and lovely. Particularly one stretch of about 87 miles through a national forest. We were blessed to be able to help a man who was in difficulty and making his day a little brighter, because of driving to Alabama. And, we arrived into Birmingham International Airport around 11:30AM CST on the 3rd. This gave us enough time to get the bag, get lunch, and drive the two hours south to Montgomery to get the license (which was essentially waiting for us thanks to “who you know”) and were down to the house in plenty of time to have a couple hours to decompress before heading back into Montgomery to have a family dinner celebrating Mama and Matt’s birthdays.

Definitely a case of “are you sure you want to do this?” It would have been so easy to quit along the way. I’m certainly glad we did not. I love my honey and the wedding and the visit was worth every moment of stress and anxiety to get from California to Alabama.