One last picture as we hit the road to the airport. Had to work all day playing catch up, but we still managed to get lunch and watch Raising Arizona anyway. Next year it's my turn for a visit.
The stormy skies on the way home were awesome and they are west of us, so Cjo's flight to Houston won't have to fly through it.
So I get home and finish out the work day and it was right about quitting time when it occurs to me, hey, I'm going to California tomorrow. . . .
Hey . . .
I'm booked on Southwest.
CRAP. I'M BOOKED ON SOUTHWEST AND IT'S AFTER 6:00 AND MY FLIGHT LEAVES TOMORROW AT 2:50.
Yup, I will be sitting in the center if I'm not lucky enough to find two lovebirds cuddled up against the window with an aisle seat available. A60 for the hopper flight to Phoenix and my intuition tells me . . there's only 60 seats on the plane.
And for the other leg to CA? B14. So I'm not the last one to board, just close to it.
I was thinking, well, at least it's less than an hour. Flight leaves at 2:50, arrives at 3:40. . . but wait! Phoenix is an hour behind us right now as they don't keep daylight savings time.
But Vicki will be waiting for me just outside security in Phoenix for my two hour layover and we'll get to visit before I head for the 95° weather of Rancho Cucamonga, which, according to Jason at Santa Barbara, is the armpit of California. Gotta love it.
Guess I should start to think about packing at some point, too. Ready (OR NOT), California, here I come.
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