For those of you out of the loop, Cody and I have moved to Arkansas to open a self-serve yogurt store. It's a risky business venture, but we are going for it! Cody always talks about how you have to take risks in order to be self employed. He should know too because he already is self employed with his Mexican textile company, www.elchamaco.com. And he's good at it. So I signed up to temporarily move to Arkansas because, "we don't have kids and can afford to take some risks."
Now, you can't start a journey to the south (or anywhere) without packing up and that, to me, is the worst part of a journey. I absolutely HATE packing and moving. We not only had to pack up our storage unit with the items staying in California, but we also had to pack up our cars with the items going to Arkansas. The entire process stressed me out, because I worried about stupid things like termites finding our furniture in the storage unit, about packing an item in the wrong location, and about the mess which was created in the process.
But we made it through the packing process and left Friday morning after a sleep over at my parents and a hardy breakfast made by my lovely mother.
Really, to get to Arkansas, you take the I-15 to Barstow and then take the I-40 east. That's it! And I was doing pretty good until we left Barstow. My back was killing me and I couldn't adjust my seat because I had a very packed car. The talk radio fuzzed out right outside of Needles. And the scenery. Swallow. The scenery was pitiful, unfortunate, no-good nasty. When you think of California you think of beaches and the pretty parts. Even when you think of the California dessert I would guess most people think of Palm Dessert/Springs or Indian Wells. But there is no dessert like that on the I-40. It is the wasteland and arm pit of California.
And right when I couldn't take any more of it, there was a lovely break. Everything was resurrected once we hit Flagstaff, Arizona. I absolutely loved our lunch picnic we had in town. I got to stretch. I got to enjoy the snow on the ground and beautiful mountains and trees. Plus, during this lunch, Cody agreed to have a mini-vacation there on our eventual drive back to California because it is super close to the Grand Canyon. Here are some pictures of Flagstaff.
Unfortunately, we had to get back on the road again and about 20 minutes outside of Flagstaff the scenery of dry dessert void of mountains and real vegetation returned. Night fell. I couldn't wait to stop off for the night in Albuquerque.
But once we made it to the hotel I booked, I definitely could wait. I booked the nastiest and dirtiest Super 8 I've ever been at. I'm a princess people, but I've stayed at a good number of Super 8, Motel 6, Econolodge, Travelodges in my day. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. But this one, although having the expected out-dated furniture and decor, was just gross! Cody jumped in the shower and I just started bawling! I couldn't help myself - or stop the tears. Only sleep stopped the tears. Cody didn't understand why I was having a breakdown. Here's what happened.
1. Gross hotel (thin, gray-but-was-once-white, unwashed sheets)
2. 12 hour drive alone (without good radio and cell phone reception)
3. Leaving California (my home for the majority of my life)
4. Fear of the unknown (the risk of the new business, the possible nastiness of the new apartment, the possible loneliness of having no friends)
5. Not going out to dinner (Cody wasn't hungry and neither was I, but I wanted to get out of the hotel and have some variation to my day. I didn't say any of this and just said, "Yeah, I'm not hungry either, lets just go to bed")
6. Change. I hate change.
The last thought I had before falling asleep was, "it's called Super 8 because it is Super Nasty and gets an 8 out of 100 for cleanliness."
Saturday was a wonderful day despite the night before. No more tears. We went to the temple in Albuquerque and we went downtown. I loved our mini-vacation. We should have stayed for an entire day, but Oklahoma City was calling our names. Here are some pictures of the temple and art district downtown.
We drove through the remaining part of New Mexico, Texas, and part of Oklahoma. We ate at Texas Roadhouse that night in honor of our Texas leg of the drive and checked into our much nicer, cleaner, 39.99 dollar a night hotel. It restored my faith in inexpensive lodging.
Sunday we went to church in Moore, OK and then went into Oklahoma City. I was so excited to explore this town. I had done my research and knew everywhere I wanted to go: the memorial, bricktown, the botanical gardens.
Here are pictures of the memorial. It is such a beautiful and touching memorial to those who lost their lives in the Oklahoma City Bombing of 1995. Probably the most known image of this memorial are the chairs. There are 9 rows of empty chairs representing the 9 floors of the bombed federal building. Each row has the amount of chairs for the number of individuals killed on that floor. There are smaller chairs for the children killed. Each chair lights up at night and has the name of the person it represents. The grounds are centered around a reflecting pool. Black entrance gates known as the "Gates of Time" have the time of innocence (9:01 before the attach) and the time of change, hope, and horror (9:03 after the bombing) encrypted into it. There is a "Survivor Tree," a 90+ old Elm named such because it survived the blasts - symbolizing resilience. I was fascinated to learn that 16 buildings in OK were damaged by the bombing and required structural renovations (or a complete demolition). Notice the original construction fence around the site has been added as part of the memorial. I was very touched here.
"We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived and those changed forever. May all who leave here know the impact of violence. May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope and serenity."
This writting was put on the side of this building by a fire fighter during the recovery. It reads "We search for the truth - we seek justice. The courts require it. The victims cry for it. And God demands it!
I really liked this statue. Across the street from the memorial is a statue titled "And Jesus Wept." A parish across the street from the Murrah building was severly damaged. As a result, a statue of Jesus has been put on the ground because, well, click on the plaque picture and read the story yourself. It is beautiful.
Here are pictures of downtown, the botanical gardens, and bricktown. Bricktown is a section of the city which used to be old brick warehouses and factories, but have been restored to hip restaurants and shops. The ballpark is in bricktown as is a river, which goes throughout the area and one can take a water taxi. We had lunch at Sonic in Bricktown, because I've never eaten at one, but mainly because OK city is Sonic's headcourters.
I was sad to say bye to OK City, but it was time to head to Arkansas, the natural state. I found some peace in the fact that the license plate of this new state of mine. It has a diamond on it (AR is the only state in the US where you can mine for diamonds)! How appropriate. The other license has a fishing theme (my grandpa Sprague would be so proud).
We made it to our new home. And the journey has just begun. There's been some blog worthy developments. I give you a hint: I was sloshing around my kitchen. Stay tuned.
