Yes, Christina--rampaging lunatics at her side--has returned to Japan. It took me a few days to shake off most of the jet lag before writing, since writing while under the effects of jet lag tends to result in whining.
I will try not to whine.
Our last full day in California passed in a blur, to be honest. We had been staying with our lovely friends Rob and Amy for the previous week. Tremendously generous of them, considering that with me I brought 2 teenagers, 3 cats, 4 huge suitcases and a need to borrow their car. However, when you consider that they were ALSO MOVING TO A NEW HOUSE at the same time as we were staying with them....well....I'm pretty sure they deserve a medal or at least a plaque. A nice plaque mind you.....wood with inscribed metal. None of that paper stuff.
Fate must have been having a good chuckle at our expense on July 10th, the day we were to leave Amy and Robs, bound for an SF airport hotel for the night before our flight-- you see, their movers arrived the morning of July 10th, at nearly the same time we needed to load Amy's car and leave. Rob got the dubious honor of staying with the movers, while Amy got the even more dubious honor of chaperoning our 3 ring circus to the hotel.
This is where things get blurry. Not that I am forgetting anything per se, but this is where my mind was multi-tasking, running through flight departure times, cat quarantine needs, listing the things I inevitably forgot.
You know, normal for me.
Our first stop, before hitting the hotel, was my mother-in-law's house. Our cats--already in various stages of freak out after spending weeks of watching us empty out our duplex in Davis, only to be unceremoniously dumped into a spacious Elk Grove house that was also in a state of moving flux--were lovingly de-crated into mom-in-law's garage. Grilled Cheese sandwiches, chips and apple pie soon followed before we had to re-crate the cats (Raku, our timid little rescued Ragdoll, took some convincing, as she had wedged herself behind the washing machine and was peering out at us with huge blue eyes). Hugs, kisses, tears.....and we were off again.
Next stop, La Quinta Suites. My mom had arranged to meet us there, where she had also reserved a room. Cats were once again de-crated. I set up a litter box, food and water. Huge suitcases were heaved into spare corners. Amy, Patrick, Aya and I met with mom, and then loaded up into the two cars and headed off to the Hungry Hunter.
This particular Hungry Hunter restaurant was done up in full "Bonanza" style. I almost expected Hoss and Little Joe to mosey out from the kitchen with a side of salt pork. Rustic wood walls, wagon wheels, huge stone fireplace, big heavy wood tables. Fake distressed wood flower boxes filled with fake spring flowers adorned fake windows above our heads near the tall peaked rafters. The food was pricey but very good, and our waiter was doting and charming enough to glean a hefty tip from us at the end.
Our wake up call came at 5:15am the next morning. Aya--already hyped to the point of no return--was up at 5am, primping herself. Patrick was glaring at me from under his hotel pillow, one bloodshot eye shooting darts of displeasure my way. Still, we all managed to get dressed and wander down to the hotel breakfast bar to meet mom, where we all unenthusiastically ate various combinations of cereal, fruit and bagels.
Then it was more hugs, kisses and tears as we re-crated the cats, re-packed the suitcases and boarded the hotel shuttle for the airport.
It was far easier than I expected to get the suitcases and cats checked in and sent on their way into the bowels of the airplane. Filling out the final paperwork at the check in counter took some time, but I didn't mind all that much since (a) the kids were too tired at that point to bicker (b) I had spent so much of the previous 8 months preparing cat paperwork that, miraculously, I had done everything right and (c) all of our suitcases were, happily, under 50 pounds--a fact that I was not at all confident about the previous night at Amy and Rob's when I was madly trying to weigh them on a tiny $7 Target scale I had purchased for just such a task.
Once divested of our giant suitcases, we toted the cats to the export inspector, who had me remove each cat, one by one, from their carrier so they could check out the latches and innards. Each carrier checked out. Final pats and caresses were given to our furry companions and then they were on their way. Poof.
Let the bickering begin!
Next: The Return 2: Bickering Sardines
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