When it rains, it pours

I can use all ten fingers and none of my toes to count the number of times friends have come to visit us in San Diego. Given that most of my friends live on the other side of the country, and we all have busy lives, I understand how taking a jaunt over to the left coast might be a little difficult to navigate.

Suddenly, however, I have had three dear friends visit in the span of two weeks. Two of them I used to teach with in Nashville, and the other one is an old college friend. Lanita and Melissa know me on a personal and professional level, and their stories about the latest escapades at my old school made me simulataneously question going back into teaching and made me want to jump back into it again with both feet. We had a grand old time driving up the coast, and given that San Diego is so different from Nashville, I thrilled at playing touring guide and showing them all the scenic nooks and crannies along the Pacific Highway. As we drove through La Jolla, they asked about the pronunciation of its name. You must understand that any Southern pronunciation is hard, meaning a name like "eggplant parmigiana" would be prounounced, "Egg plant PARMA JONNA." So, I explained the double "L" pronunciation and they we all decided jointly that it should be pronounced, "La Holla." As in, "Holla back atcha." Yes, we all have our Master's degrees in education and yet we revel in the immature mispronunciation of La Jolla. A fun time was had by all.

My friend Teresa is still in San Diego, but is visiting other friends. Our escapades involved wine country and lots of it. It also involved a sick child, and her wonderful, kindred spirit to me came shining through when she looked at Lucas's red, watery eyes, running nose, and drooling mouth and pronounced, "THAT, is a face only a mother could love." It felt to good to laugh hard again, and reminisce about our escapades in Memphis and Nashville. It is always nice to pick up right where we left off.

Come see me again! We'll pass a good time.