… I am probably on my way back from southern California, if I’m not already home. (Full disclosure: I wrote this post yesterday)
Today, (or yesterday) I’m going to talk about my husband. As it is February, I think this is appropriate. His birthday is this month. Mine is also this month. And then there’s Valentine’s Day which we usually don’t celebrate, but sometimes we do.
On Friday I was spending day three on the couch after a nasty little bugger of a cold crept up and jumped me from behind. It was a very productive time, actually, I finally watched the BBC production of “Pride and Prejudice” as well as season two of “Mr. Selfridge.”
My husband had had a very busy few days. We’d both made it through a taxing show at one of the many casino-resorts in Vegas, but once the show was done, I was done. My husband, though, is never done. He went from a ten pm finish to a five am office call. He worked late again. Went in early the next day, then didn’t get home until 3:30 am – just in time to pack for a six am flight to southern California. It was about 8:30 when I got the text from him that said “I forgot pants,” so, I express mailed his pants. Heh. It was about four when we were texting back and forth and something he said made me ask “Do you want me to come down there?” He texted back a simple “Yes.” After confirming that he was, in fact, serious, I dropped everything I was doing (laundry, but lots of it) contacted the kitty sitter and got in the car.
The drive between Vegas and LA is something I’ve done so many times that I could almost do it in my sleep. This is a good thing because it was a Friday night meaning the stream of traffic Northbound was near constant. It was raining and it was dark. With the opposing traffic’s headlights in my eyes there were times the road in front of me would completely disappear. I would appreciate it if the California Department of Transportation would get right on fixing the markings on their highways, stat.
When I finally made it to Anaheim, tired, worn out, still feeling the effects of my cold from somewhere near Hell, I found the husband who was on hour … um… I need more fingers to figure out how many hours he’d been running already… and finally discovered what he wanted me there for. That’s right. I hadn’t asked. It could’ve been to work. It could’ve been for moral support.
It was strangely heartwarming to discover that my independent, does his own laundry, husband wanted me there for moral support. And to feed him. He has a fairly serious allergy to wheat. With the recent explosion of ‘gluten-free’ as a fad diet it can be difficult to find people who take it seriously. It can also be difficult to find truly safe gluten free options as a person who travels for work. Of course, that recent explosion is also the reason I can walk into most restaurants, say ‘gluten free’, and not get a look that says I must be speaking a foreign language.
So, I spent three days in a comfortable Anaheim hotel room. I went to the grocery store and worked on finding safe food for the husband. I walked around the neighborhood at night taking photos like this one:
I went to Christ Cathedral – formerly known as the Crystal Cathedral – and took pictures of other things. For instance, their truly-lovely-despite-the-dire-California-drought grass:
And this very interesting wall with a beautiful contrast of light and shadow – lit by light reflected off the cathedral:
Finally, I’ll leave you with this one. What do you think it is?