In the midst of all of my other unfinished projects, I stopped last week to make this tote bag. It was inspired by the Trio knit tote bag, a free pattern from Crystal Palace Yarns, but I added my own touches. Instead of an I-cord trim around the top, I added trim with a picot edge. Instead of I-cord handles, I used a monks’ cord drawstring.

The tote is knit in seed stitch using one strand of Tahki Yarns Chat Print in color 023, and one strand of GGH Capri in color 03. Chat Print is a cotton tape, and Capri is a chained cotton/modal yarn with a nylon wrap. The trim is a double strand of the Capri.

This is the second trim I tried. The first one, a simple stockinette stitch tube, was on the bag when it made its public debut at work and at Thursday Tangle knitting night. I wasn’t very happy with the way that one came out, so I frogged it out and started over with the hemmed, picot-edged trim.

After an unfortunate encounter in an elevator, I realized that in order to be most useful the tote needed to be lined to keep knitting needles and other sharp objects from poking through the bag and into other things. But the great thing about having a knit tote is how stretchy it is. You can over-pack it a lot, because it stretches to hold whatever you’re filling it up with.

In order to preserve its stretchy goodness, I lined it with Lycra in a sparkly midnight purple. (Note: No swimming suits were harmed in the production of this tote. The local fabric store was having a sale.) In the second picture, the bag is open to show the lining. You can also see the monks’ cord, made from the Chat Print, better than in the first pic. (click the pics for the bigger version)

And what’s that we see peaking out of the innards of the tote bag?

Why, it’s Clapotis! My Clapotis project moved out of one of Tangles cool brown paper bags and into the tote last week. I’ve dropped four stitches on the Clapotis, and I’m just about ready to drop the fifth. If I’d stop wandering off on other projects and focus on this one, I might actually be able to completed it!

Clapotis is knit from Blue Heron Yarns Rayon/Metallic yarn in the aptly named “Parrot” colorway. The close-up pic shows the colors better. I love this yarn. The drape of the fabric is wonderful and this is going to be very nice to wear. But it’s not inexpensive. I’m not likely to knit with it very often.

In all seriousness, I’m hoping to complete Clapotis this week and get back to E’s socks. Except that… well…

I was over at Woodland Woolworks yesterday, and I found South West Trading Company Phoenix, a soy-silk ribbon, in Harvest Green and Napa Valley; and Brown Sheep Company Cotton Fleece in Dusty Sage. I think that these two yarns will make an awesome tote bag. I’m going to make the pattern for this one up as I go along. As with socks, it makes more sense to me to start at the bottom and work my way up rather than the other way around. There’s also a twisted I-cord trim I saw on a pair of socks that I’d like to try on this tote, and I want to do an I-cord drawstring rather than monks’ cord.

If anyone knows how to do I-cord really fast, I’m all ears!

Monks’ cord… It’s funny, but I learned how to twist rope on an OMSI Family Archeology Weekend thingy out in the John Day Fossil Beds that #1 Son and I enrolled in about 8 years ago. It was a fun weekend, and I’d recommend it to any family if OMSI is still doing it. Along with digging for fossils on a field trip to the Fossil, Oregon High School fossil beds, chipping out arrow heads, polishing thunder eggs, hiking and being eaten alive by lots of large, hungry, 6-legged critters, we learned how to twist rope out of dry grass. #1 Son and I made bracelets from our rope and wore them for the rest of that vacation.

Who knew that skill would come in so handy, or that I would remember how to do it? It was certainly amusing for the cats, as I stretched ribbon yarn across the kitchen in order to twist it into monks’ cord. Moo Cow wanted to help, but I discouraged it.

I have to admit that, since that long-ago weekend, I have never made another arrowhead.

Part 6: MGM Grand (redux)

Tuesday got off to a late start, but I did manage to squeeze a little gambling and a cup of coffee in before noon. When #1 Son got up, he looked out the window and said, It’s really raining hard, Mom. You’re going to get wet going down to MGM Grand.

I dithered about whether to do the focus group or not. But… $50 is $50 and I’m not so wealthy that it isn’t a meaningful sum of cash. I was due down there at 2:15, so I started out about 1:00. I decided to be “smart” and take the monorail so I wouldn’t have to walk so far. I knew the closest monorail stop was a Bally’s. For some reason I thought that I had to walk up to the corner and take the people-mover conveyor belt thingy into the casino. By the time I walked up the street, I was soaked. And, once in the casino, I realized that I could have walked through Paris and gotten there virtually dry.

And my foot really hurt, now. I could tell it was starting to blister on the bottom.

Since it was raining there were quite a few people waiting for the monorail, but I managed to get on to the second train that came. At MGM Grand, I hobbled down to Television City for the focus group. We were asked to watch snips from several shows that were simulcast on both HD-TV and regular TV and notice the differences. Then we were led to a room where we were asked lots of questions about how much we would be willing to pay for on-demand TV shows (zero, in my case), if we would pay $7 to see a movie 0n-demand with no commercials and available for 24 hours (no, since I currently pay around $3), if we would rather have $1500 cash or $2500 in electronic equipment (probably cash), and what equipment were we planning on buying in the next year (none). There was some debate about whether my computer counted like a Tivo, since I do have cable running to it and can record TV shows for later viewing.

After receiving my hard-earned (hardly earned?) $50, I hobbled out to the monorail station. The line for the monorail was now all the way out to the casino. I waited for a long, long, time. I would have risked the rain and walked, but by now my foot was killing me and the blister on the bottom felt like it was the size of Mt. Hood. So I waited. Back at Bally’s, I turned left and walked through Paris. I only got a little wet between Paris and the Aladdin. I bought some band-aids and hobbled upstairs to tape my foot up. I told #1 Son that I had to have some different shoes, so we needed to go shopping. I was also pretty hungry, as I hadn’t eaten. The litter in the room announced that #1 Son had gone for take-out sushi, but there wasn’t even a crumb left.

Part 7: The Aladdin (redux)

While in the room, I called Aladdin engineering and told them that I was having problems with the mouse, that I’d called Sprint, and that nobody had ever come by or called. The guy I talked to said that he’d call me back right away. I never heard from him.

The Desert Passage mall at The Aladdin has 104 shops. It’s not quite as upscale as The Forum at Caesar’s or the mall at Paris, but there are a lot of cool shops to look in. There was, of course, a shoe store. And they had shoes in European sizing, which fit me much better than American sizes. I bought two pairs — a pair of red casual shoes and a pair of black dress shoes — and wore the red ones out of the store. My foot started to feel better immediately, as did my spirit. There’s nothing like a new pair of shoes. Mama used to say that when you’re down you should go buy a new hat to lift your spirit. I look sucky in hats, so I buy shoes. 😀

We also stopped in a souvenir shop to buy umbrellas and gifts for some of #1 Son ‘s friends. He picked up a t-shirt and two souvenir lighters. We also ate passable but totally uninspired enchiladas at a Mexican restaurant that also boasted (go figure) bad coffee.

It was still raining. It rained hard enough to overflow the Bellagio fountain.

After shopping we hung around the room (mom with foot propped up) until it was time to hobble down to The Flamingo for:

Part 8: George Wallace at The Flamingo

Finally a good show! Both George Wallace and the comedian who did the warm up were hysterically funny. We were sitting right by the stage, so #1 Son got teased about his hair. 😉 I thought of it as turnabout’s fair play since last year I was teased soundly by the magician at V.

On the way back to The Aladdin, it was still raining like crazy. But, we were dry under our umbrellas. We turned in right after the show because we had to get up early for:

Part 9: Hummer Gold Rish Adventure Tour

Last year we took a Hummer tour to the Grand Canyon and it was lots of fun. So this year I booked the Hummer Gold Rush Adventure Tour, that takes you out to a gold mine and a ghost town. We had to be out at the pick-up point at 8:00 AM in order to catch the Hummer for the tour. The Hummer showed up about 8:20, and the driver said that the tour had to be cancelled.

Water and deserts don’t mix. The electricity at the mine and the ghost town was out and the roads were closed because of flash floods.

We were offered $10 off on the Valley Of Fire tour, but since I happen to know that tour is quite a bit less than $10 off of the gold mine tour price, I declined. Instead we trooped back in to the concierge desk to get a refund and find out if any other tours were still open. Well, said the nice lady at the concierge desk. I could probably book you on:

Part 10: Annie Bananie’s Wild West Vally Of Fire & Lake Mead tour

OK. It’s a hokey name meant to grap the attention of Japanese tourists. But, hey… what the heck. It was either Annie Bananie or boredom.

While the concierge lady got our tour booked, I took the opportunity to discuss with the manager the situation with our mouse. She not only promised to have it fixed by the time we got back, but also comped our internet usage. 🙂

For the tour, we were picked up by “Sierra Sam” in a 12-seat mini-van. Sam was a Texan who’d been doing the tour for many years, and he was a hoot. He had a story about everything, including the Las Vegas sign. I don’t know how many stories were tall tales, but he was entertaining. Along the way to Lake Meade he told us about the rock formations, the history of Las Vegas and pointed out the homes of famous people. Our first stop was at an area of rock formations where we got out and took pictures. We were up high enough to get some great views of the valley.

From there we travelled to Lake Meade. I was surprised to see that in many place there was dirt and gravel on the pavement where the water from flash floods had gone over the road. Many of the normally-dry gullies now contained fast-running streams. Sam said he couldn’t recall seeing it quite like that ever before.

At Lake Meade we ate lunch at a little restaurant. Food was good. Coffee was bad. It was too windy and cold to walk around much. But we did look out over the lake for a bit before retreating to the van.

Our next stop was Roger’s Spring. We looked at it from the van but didn’t get out because Sam had heard some of the roads ahead were bad and more bad weather was coming. He wanted to make sure we saw the Valley of Fire before the bad weather hit again.

We stopped at several spots in The Valley Of Fire, including the Visitor’s Center.

One stop was at some stone cabins built in the ’30’s by the Civilian Conservation Corps There are petroglyphs on the rocks behind the cabins. This picture was taken looking out of the window of the middle cabin. (click on the pic to embiggen)

As you can see, there was a great view, but the accomodations left something to be desired. The room is about 10′ x 10′, with a small fireplace and chimney in the corner opposite the door. The floor is dirt. There is no door or window. I doubt that anyone leaves a chocolate on your pillow. But, if you climb down the rocks in front of the cabins, there’s a pool and the swimming looked good.

Our last stop was at an arch formation. While there, it started to rain, and then hail. I was glad we’d seen everything because it was obviously time to call it quits.

All-in-all, the tour was a lot of fun. Sam was an awesome guide and the sights were well worth seeing. I’d recommend the tour to anyone. I’d even take it again myself. (But next year I’d really like to do the ghost town and gold mine!)

Sam dropped us off at The Aladdin in the afternoon. I was sorry to learn from him that the Aladdin is closing and will reopen as Planet Hollywood. I would have stayed at the Aladdin again. But Planet Hollywood… uh… no.

Part 11: The Aladdin (finale)
We debated where to eat dinner, and finally decided on Tremezzo, an Italian place in The Aladdin. #1 Son ordered a cup of coffee. Might as well give it one more shot. he said.

His coffee came in a French press. It smelled divine. I’ll have one of those, too. I told the waiter. Finally! Decent coffee!

After dinner it was pretty much just a little TV and then bed. We had to get up at 4:30 AM [groan] in order to get to the airport by 6:00, to catch an 8:00 AM flight. I always allow extra time for the trip back, because we always, always get stuck somewhere (usually in security).

Part 12: Homeward Bound

And we did get stuck in security. Not me this time, but #1 Son. At least the TSA in Las Vegas asked my permission before searching him. That was refreshing.

They confiscated one of the lighters that #1 Son had bought (just one of the pair, even though they were the same). And not because he had too many lighters (which he did), but because that one was deemed to be a “torch lighter,” whatever the heck that is. They also confiscated the 2″ pair of scissors that was in the little sewing kit I bought in the Aladdin sundries shop so that #1 Son could sew a button on his coat. The little scissors that could barely cut thread were deemed too dangerous.

The TSA offered to let us mail the lighter and the scissors back to ourselves for (get this) $8.00 apiece. That’s nuts. I could drop the scissors in a letter with a regular stamp and mail it at postage rates. We declined.

#1 Son was sorry to lose the lighter. But he bought another one at the gift shop in the terminal while we were waiting for our plane to board.

The ride to PDX was uneventful. Getting the car out of the parking lot was expensive, since we had to park in the garage. The fur kids were glad to see us when we picked them up. Captain Kidd had finally started eating a little Gerber turkey, Phoebe was happy since the staff had learned she likes to be scratched, and Moo Cow was queen of the world once the staff moved her into what she consideres “her room” (she whined and moaned until they did). And we were all glad to be back home.

Pics will be up on Mommymonster when I get around to it, which may not be any time soon.

As you will recall, when we last saw Mom and #1 Son they had rustled up some grub at PF Chang’s and suffered through seen Steve Wyrick’s magic show at The Aladdin.

Part 3: New York New York (it’s a hell of a casino) (sorry, couldn’t resist)

Monday dawned gray but dry, and there began a fruitless, days-long search for a decent cup of coffee. There was a little candy and espresso shop — Teuscher Chocolates of Switzerland — just inside Desert Passage (the mall at The Aladdin), and I stopped there for a couple of cups of java and scones. #1 Son, you see, sleeps in the morning. I haven’t been able to sleep past 7:00 or so for years. So, while #1 Son sleeps, mom gambles. I will say no more about that except to say that I broke even, and I consider that pretty darn good for any Vegas vacation. So, post-gamble I fetched coffee and scones from Teuscher back to the room, where I found #1 Son up and stirring. His comment: Is there anyplace here that makes good coffee?
Mom’s take on coffee at Teuscher:
Mom’s take on chocolate at Teuscher:

#1 Son wanted to see a comedian, and the only ones not dark on Monday were Rita Rudner at New York New York and the Second City Improve troup at The Flamingo. Having already seen Second City during a previous trip, we decided on Ms. Rudner. We first stopped by the concierge desk to book a “Hummer Ghost Town and Gold Mine” tour for Wednesday, and then walked down to NYNY.

Isn’t it funny how distances on a map just never look as far as they really are? On the map, it looks like The Aladdin is practically right next to MGM Grand. But, not so… (Actually, the maps of the Strip often say distances between casinos are further than they appear.)

So, we hiked down to New York New York. It’s about 1/2 mile or so from The Aladdin. I’m not complaining, because I like to walk. But I should have brought better walking shoes than I had… At NYNY, Rita Rudner was sold out. So that left Second City. And we started back to The Flamingo. It’s about 1-1/3 miles from NYNY.

Along the way we passed a Denny’s. I’m not a great Denny’s fan, but I was hungry and I knew that (1) the price would be right and (2) #1 Son could find something he could eat there. We did not, however, find decent coffee.
Mom’s take on Denny’s:

When we left Denny’s, I noticed that my left foot was starting to hurt on the bottom.

Part 3: The Flamingo:

At The Flamingo, I purchased tickets for Second City at 10:30 PM that night, and for George Wallace at 10:00 PM on Tuesday. And that left us with a whole lot of time to kill.

The Flamingo has a soft spot in my heart because it can always be counted on for Las Vegas kitsch of the most pretentious kind, but I’ve always felt it to be more than slightly tongue-in-cheek. Unlike other casinos that take themselves too seriously, The Flamingo’s in on the joke, and wants us to be, too. Signs claimed that there was a Wildlife Habitat in its garden. I thought that might be interesting. We wandered out to the garden and found a few flamingos (naturally), a swan, some ducks, penguins, and a few koi swimming apathetically around a small pond.

There was also a Christmas display that included about a dozen little Christmas trees, Santa in his sleigh sans reindeer, and these “happy” sledders.

Maybe it’s the strange, slightly non-human shape of the “girl” pulling the sled. Or maybe it’s the rather demonic gleam in her eye. Or maybe the look of abject terror on the face of the passenger. #1 Son and I both burst out laughing. I kept thinking Chucky meets Fargo. Click on the picture to embiggen and see the whole effect.

The other thing that I really didn’t understand about the whole Flamingo Christmas display was the trees. Each tree had presents under it. Four presents per tree. No more. No less. Each present was attached to the tree with wire. It wasn’t attached at the base of the tree, but up near the top. And the presents weren’t actually under the trees. You can see a couple of them in the picture. They were quite a ways out from the trees. Perhaps the Flamingo has a happy little Christmas show in the evening with dancing presents? I don’t know. It will remain a mystery.

Part 4: MGM Grand:

Having still a lot of time to kill, we decided to ride the monorail down to MGM Grand, where I knew there were some good souvenir shops that should have the type of present #1 Son was looking to pick up for his friends at home. The monorail had recently reopened after being lengthened and revamped. And then it closed, because things kept falling off of it, and the cars kept stopping in the middle of the tracks for no reason, and doors kept opening on the wrong side where there wasn’t a platform. It has just reopened again, and was free through Tuesday. But the monorail station in the MGM Grand has been moved. Instead of stopping at the shops, it now stops down near CBS Television City.

Television City includes a market research firm that will let you watch bad new television shows and give your opinion. I’ve always found that to be sort of fun, as well as time-consuming, so we signed up. We “got to” watch a British reality show called Take My Mother-In-Law. We were given dials that registered from 0 to 100 and told to keep a running tally of our opinion of the show at all times. After the first 5 minutes, #1 Son set his permanently to zero and went to sleep. I was tempted. Does the world really need another bad reality show? I will spare you, gentle reader, from the description of it, except to say that the only thing it had going for it was the British humor. And that will probably be removed when the show is Americanized for US audiences. If they can find any.
Mom’s take on Take My Mother-In-Law: No stars

At the end of our session, the research firm rep mentioned that they were looking for people to take part in a focus group, for which we would be paid the princely sum of $50. And I fit in the demographics they were looking for. I signed up and was slotted for a group meeting at 2:15 PM the next day.

The MGM Grand is huge. Really huge. When trying to find your way around, its best to follow the wall. There are few landmarks in the middle of the casino and it’s very easy to get lost without a breadcrumb trail to follow. But we struck out across the casino because I remembered that there is a Wolfgang Puck Bar & Grill smack dab in the middle of the slot machines, and it serves such wonderous dishes as acorn squash soup, wood fired pizza and various vegetarian pasta fare. It does not, however, serve a decent cup of coffee.
Mom’s take on coffee at Wolfgang Puck:
Mom’s take on food at Wolfgang Puck:

Part 5: The Flamingo, redux

After dinner we rode the monorail from end to end, and then back to The Flamingo. There’s a little coffee shop in The Flamingo where we had coffee and desert. #1 Son had banana cream pie. It was mostly cool whip and tough crust, with a few sad banana slices. I ordered vanilla ice cream, figuring that there wasn’t much that could be done to mess it up. I was wrong. When I finally made it through the cool whip and down to the ice cream, I found what looked like vanilla ice cream, including little brown flecks of what I hope was vanilla bean. But it didn’t taste like vanilla. It didn’t taste like anything, really. The coffee, per usual, sucked.
Mom’s take on coffee and desert at The Flamingo:

By now it was finally time for the Second City show. There was a long, long line to get in. And the troup this year was just not as funny as the one we saw before. Ah well. It didn’t suck. It just wasn’t as funny as I’d hoped.
Mom’s take on the current Second city troup:

From the Flamingo we hoofed it back to The Aladdin (a little over 1/2 mile), through a Portland-style drizzle. Gee, I said to #1 Son when we got back to our room. My foot really hurts. But probably it will be better in the morning.

Next: We learn that dumping a whole lot of water on a desert all at once is not a good idea.

#1 Son and I go to Las Vegas for Christmas. I know that seems weird to some people. Las Vegas isn’t really the most “Christmassy” place on earth. But it’s become something of a tradition with us to get out of town during the holiday madness, and so we travel. To Vegas. Each year I make our reservation in a different hotel. This year it was The Aladdin. And each year we go on some sort of tour. This year it was to be a ghost town and gold mine. But, to begin at the beginning:

Part One: The Airport

#1 Son and I travel light and never check bags, so I usually check in and print our boarding passes over the ‘net the night before. That way we can go directly to our gate without any stops along the way. I printed #1 Son’s pass, but there was some glitch (or so I thought) that prevented me from printing mine. I kept getting a message that said: Print it at the airport.

We usually park in the economy lot and take the shuttle in. But, after dropping the fur kids off at the Cat B & B, we arrived at the airport to find the economy lot full — so full that barriers were up preventing us from even entering. Signs suggested parking in long term. But long term was full. Signs on the long term lot suggested parking in the garage. At $18/day. So far we’re doing great. NOT

Inside the airport I stopped to print my boarding pass, and then we headed for security. Since the Great Bullet Belt Debacle I was a little more cognizant of what items we were attempting to carry on board a plane. The bullet belt was left at home, as were all scissors. I had checked to make sure that knitting needles were allowed before I brought my half-made socks along. (One is now completed and the other 1/2 finished — pics when done.) What I hadn’t counted on was being singled out myself for a little extra attention.

In the security line, #1 Son was sent down the normal path, but I was shuffled off to the side, where the “special” people get to go. There my purse, bag, shoes and sweater were thoroughly examined, searched and otherwise pawed through. And a fairly rude woman patted me down, front and back, and used a metal-detector wand. I was required to unbuckle my belt, and since the pant I was wearing are rather loose, this had the unfortunate result of revealing my lovely undies to everyone in the terminal. You’re losing your pants. The TSA woman said helpfully, while the TSA man chuckled appreciatively and continued pawing through the undies in my bag.

When I was finally deemed harmless and allowed to depart the security area, I found #1 Son just putting his shoes back on. He had also been subjected to wanding because he’d forgotten to bring the key to the lock that fastens the chain around his neck, and so set off the metal detector. He had not only been wanded, but also patted down. I was neither notified nor asked permission. He wasn’t even asked if he was a minor.

Yes, I’ve complained to TSA, although I waited until I got home.

At the gate, #1 Son pointed out helpfully to me that since he had a bic lighter and a can of hairspray, he possessed what amounted to a flame thrower. I suggested that we not discuss that with any airline or TSA people.

On boarding the plane, when I presented my boarding pass the airlines employee said, Here’s the red boarding pass. You must be the dangerous woman on this flight. I made some noncommittal sound, and he replied by reading my name slowly and loudly enough for everyone at the gate to hear, thus subjecting me to further humiliation. #1 Son’s flame thrower became tempting…

Yes, I’ve complained to the airline, although I waited until I got home. (No sense in jinxing the return trip.)

Part 2: The Aladdin

So this particular vacation got off to a great start. But the flight down to Vegas was at least uneventful, and I finished the first sock while in the air. At The Aladdin, the check-in line was short. Our room was on the 17th floor near the elevators, and if we squeezed behind our table and craned our necks a little we had a reasonably good view of the Bellagio fountains. The bathroom featured a tiled shower with a glass door and a large soaking tub, but only one sink.

Every room in The Aladdin is equipped with a monitor, keyboard and mouse and has internet access via the hotel’s network for $9.95/24 hours. Yes, it’s more than most dial-up providers charge per month, but at least the access is available and “day” really is defined as 24 hours so there’s no extra charge for partial days. Our mouse didn’t work so I made sure that everything was plugged in correctly and rebooted the in-room part of the system. When that turned out to be ineffectual, I called the number provided (it turns out that the provider is Sprint). Since it was Sunday, no technicians were available but I was told that a “trouble ticket” would be issued and someone should be by in the morning.

The Aladdin has thoughtfully provided a PF Chang’s on the casino level. Since that happens to be one of my favorite restaurants, and one where vegetarian dishes are no problem, our dinner plans were easy to make. Although we had to wait for quite awhile to be seated, PF Chang’s was well worth the wait. I’m addicted to the lettuce wraps. Mom’s take on PF Chang’s:

For entertainment Sunday night, we looked no further than The Aladdin itself. Steve Wyrick is the featured act at the hotel. Billed as “Vegas’ Magician Of The Year,” Wyrick’s show promises bad motorcycles, hot girls, killer music and mind-blowing, bigger-than-life illusions. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite deliver. The motorcyle (1) is there, and the girls, but the music is hardly “killer.” The illusions may be big, but they aren’t particularly mind-blowing. (Raise up curtain, roll airplane on stage. Yawn.) The smaller illusions are better. But his patter is annoying at best and his “teasing” of a woman who spoke absolutely no English and so didn’t understand the joke fell completely flat. Wyrick just doesn’t have the panache to pull off illusions of the size his act contains. After the show, the theater exit leads through the magic shop, where one is encouraged to buy everything in sight. VIP ticket holders can have their free magic books autographed by Wyrick. Non-VIP-ticket holders can get an autograph, but they have to pay for the book. We passed, and left wondering who votes for “Magician Of The Year.” If you’re in Vegas and want to see a magician, take in David Copperfield at the MGM Grand, or head over to Monte Carlo for Lance Burton. Mom’s take on Steve Wyrick:

More tomorrow, including Chucky meets Fargo at The Flamingo and the hazards of sudden downpours in the desert.

I finally got the vacation pictures up on Mommymonster. (shameless plug for my other home site) Just look under the bottom leaf and follow the photo menu to Vacations -> Disneyland 2004.

Day # 4 was another play-it-by-ear day. Since we hadn’t been over to Disneyland (the Magic Kingdom part) yet, that was what we aimed for.

I let #1 Son sleep in again, while I drank coffee, read the paper, and finished the Faye Kellerman novel I’d picked up a few days before. And #1 Son slept, and slept, and slept. I finally woke him up and said, let’s go!

It’s something of a tradition in our family that we ride Pirates Of The Caribbean just before lunch, and then eat at The Blue Bayou. We barely made it for the last seating for lunch. But we did make it, so the tradition holds.

We rode Pirates, The Haunted House, The Jungle Cruise, Indiana Jones, Star Tours, and Honey, I Shrunk The Audience. Lines were short here, too. Our longest wait — 15 minutes — was for Indiana Jones, but it’s well worth waiting for. Much to my disappointment, The Tiki Room, which is one of my favorites, was closed. (All the birds sing tunes and the flowers croon in the TikiTiki TikiTiki Ti-Ki Room.)

We grabbed a cold drink and checked the map to see what we wanted to do next. And then realized that there wasn’t anything else either of us was just dying to see. We were even done souvenir shopping. We were both ready to go home.

Mom’s take on Disneyland: Because this is, after all, Disneyland. But minus one because of the number of attractions that were closed. Even the Castle was wrapped up in plastic.

We rode the Monorail back to Downtown Disney, where I hit the bookstore for reading material. It was still early and neither of us was hungry. There’s a movie theater in Downtown Disney, so we decided to see Collateral with Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx.
Mom’s take on Collateral: Lots of fun. Chills. Thrills. A bit too graphically violent. But definitely tense.

After the movie we still weren’t hungry, but #1 Son wanted a last slice of Key Lime Pie. We wandered over to House Of Blues to feed his jones. And then we headed back to the room. To tell the truth, we were both ready to come home.

At the room we found a nice surprise! We had “made” a punk teddy bear (actually, a bunny) at Build A Bear Workshop in Downtown Disney. Our turn-down-service person had posed it on #1 Son’s bed. That was a fun treat.

The next morning, we needed to be outside at 6:15 AM to catch the shuttle to the airport. (Blech, what a terrible time!) I asked for a wake-up call, and this time we actually got it! (Does it have to be Mickey calling? Yeah. I guess it does. This is Disney.) I’d se the alarm, too, just in case.

It was too early for room-service breakfast. But we drank coffee and packed. I’ve already blogged about the bullet-belt fiasco at the airport.

I was glad to be home. The fur-kids were glad to see me, too. All of them had lost weight at the Cat B&B. It’s not a big deal for Phoebe and Moo Cow, but it’s a little bit of a worry for Kidd. He’s made up for lost time since we’ve been back, though.

And that was how I spent my summer vacation!