A soft place to land

Our original plan was to visit New York City twice: once going to, and again upon returning from Europe.
But that was before we'd actually been there.  We decided once was enough.

I'm sorry we had to miss visiting Genea again and the chance to meet Nathan but I trust they'll make their way out to California soon enough.

What we needed was a soft place to land and Krissi's place was just that. Soft.
So soft we nearly went catatonic.  So soft we did nothing but lay on the couch and rediscover television.  (Still the same spokeswoman for Progressive Car Insurance huh?)

Also we spent a lot of time overeating cause that's a hard habit to break apparently.

What I didn't do was take many photos.  My lameness with regard to photographing people has already been established as is my general inability to walk and chew gum at the same time or otherwise behave like a rational, productive adult.  Jet-lag and culture shock, remember?

Here's the sum total of 8 days:

I used the wrong setting while we were at the beach (jet-lag strikes again) so if you want non-blue-tinted photos of Siesta Beach you can go back to March 2011 (or go online and find something taken by a professional).

Given my history of this sort of thing, it should come as no surprise that in the span of a week I got three photos of my sister and her family and two of them were blurred beyond salvaging.  Missing completely are shots of Shelby and Chris.  I'm not sure how that blunder happened except that I thought it was more important to talk and visit so the camera was put away and forgotten for hours on end.  As it should be, right?

Not put aside or forgotten was our promise to get Mircea an electric guitar from James' shop.  On the drive back from the store Luci asked, "Mircea, why are you smiling?"
And Mircea's answer was "I just got an electric guitar, man, why wouldn't I be smiling?"

So thanks James and Rick for helping us out with that bit of glory and being so generous with the four befuddled sloths who were lying on your furniture every night when you came home.

The best thing about the week (beyond the warm sand, the pedicure, the Lazy-Boys) was getting to spend sister time.

That's hard to say good-bye to.  I hate that part.  So I won't elaborate.  I'll think about the good times instead.