Thursday, March 06, 2008
Sacramento
The trip to Sacramento went well. The apostilles were received without a hitch, and now I have an additional 2000 miles to add to my United Mileage account. The kids were great in the car, and good sports at the Secretary of State office. They loved the train museum and with this being our third visit there, I am still enjoying it too. As the kids get older, I find more time to pause and read the signs posted at the exhibits. And I can't resist browsing through the books in the bookshop, even if it means I have to buy some little tchotchkes for the kids.
The hallway to the Notary office in Secretary of State office was very long, a perfect runway for a six-year-old girl dressed in pink from head to toe and a six-year-old boy in grubbies. And while I followed behind a galloping girl and a skipping boy, I thought... conventional wisdom says that I ought to make them walk in this office building full of adults. My inner Pollyanna gaily says that wouldn't it have been wonderful when I was six to run down that empty, carpeted hallway? I don't even feel like running now, sedentary cow that I have become. My children will have their whole lives to walk and hobble along. Let them run! (...until we get yelled at...) And so they ran and skipped, and I picked up the pace a little bit, just to make it seem like I was in control.
We met a young man (of about 90) working at the train museum as a docent. He was manning the enormous steam engine that was used to climb the Sierras. Specially designed for the numerous tunnels through the mountains, this steam engine has the cockpit (is that was what it's called?) at the front of the engine, because the air quality in the rear is not so good when you're passing through very long tunnels. The tender contained crude oil, obtained from the fields in Southern California, which was heated to around 200 degrees before being pumped forward to the firebox. All of these details the young man shared with us. His passion for trains was apparent, and I am very appreciative of the time he spent with us; it was no small effort for him to be there. I will miss that generation so. They really are the heart of America. They are my parents.
Driving home I saw a billboard on the side of the freeway that said that every extra pound of weight translates to four pounds of pressure on your knees. Does that mean that if I lose 10 pounds that 40 pounds of pressure will be removed from my knees? Not that my knees are bothering me, but something to think about. Even 5 pounds.
We were driving South on 880 through San Jose, which runs right under the jet approach for the San Jose International airport. The traffic was heavy and we were creeping along at 5-10 mph. The kids and I kept guessing if we would beat the next airplane approaching the airport. Happily we were RIGHT under an approaching Southwest 737... I opened the sunroof and we could see it fly right above us, loud engines roaring. How fun! (...and how smelly, jet exhaust and all...)
I now have a very large stack of expensive papers that I need to send to my agency in San Diego. Time for me to get going.
The hallway to the Notary office in Secretary of State office was very long, a perfect runway for a six-year-old girl dressed in pink from head to toe and a six-year-old boy in grubbies. And while I followed behind a galloping girl and a skipping boy, I thought... conventional wisdom says that I ought to make them walk in this office building full of adults. My inner Pollyanna gaily says that wouldn't it have been wonderful when I was six to run down that empty, carpeted hallway? I don't even feel like running now, sedentary cow that I have become. My children will have their whole lives to walk and hobble along. Let them run! (...until we get yelled at...) And so they ran and skipped, and I picked up the pace a little bit, just to make it seem like I was in control.
We met a young man (of about 90) working at the train museum as a docent. He was manning the enormous steam engine that was used to climb the Sierras. Specially designed for the numerous tunnels through the mountains, this steam engine has the cockpit (is that was what it's called?) at the front of the engine, because the air quality in the rear is not so good when you're passing through very long tunnels. The tender contained crude oil, obtained from the fields in Southern California, which was heated to around 200 degrees before being pumped forward to the firebox. All of these details the young man shared with us. His passion for trains was apparent, and I am very appreciative of the time he spent with us; it was no small effort for him to be there. I will miss that generation so. They really are the heart of America. They are my parents.
Driving home I saw a billboard on the side of the freeway that said that every extra pound of weight translates to four pounds of pressure on your knees. Does that mean that if I lose 10 pounds that 40 pounds of pressure will be removed from my knees? Not that my knees are bothering me, but something to think about. Even 5 pounds.
We were driving South on 880 through San Jose, which runs right under the jet approach for the San Jose International airport. The traffic was heavy and we were creeping along at 5-10 mph. The kids and I kept guessing if we would beat the next airplane approaching the airport. Happily we were RIGHT under an approaching Southwest 737... I opened the sunroof and we could see it fly right above us, loud engines roaring. How fun! (...and how smelly, jet exhaust and all...)
I now have a very large stack of expensive papers that I need to send to my agency in San Diego. Time for me to get going.
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2 comments:
yeah!!! you are definitely on your way... :)))
I LOVE watching the planes take off... so cool!!!
yes, that generation is leaving us, and what a loss. Ruby was part of that, a world we just knew the tip of and one our children are so far from understanding. it's up to us to keep that era alive through memories and conduct.
sounds like a very good trip!
How nice to have someone from that generation share the trains with you. Perhaps your grandmother sent him since she couldn't accompany you this time.
Glad to hear things are moving forward.
Ronda
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