I'm writing from lovely Pismo Beach. Our hotel is FANTASTIC! We have a first floor room with a patio and we're about 15 feet from the sand. The hotel does a continental breakfast on the patio overlooking the beach. Life's tough, huh?
I wasn't sure we'd ever make it here though. Know why? Grandpa driving! Yes, Hubby drives like a grandpa--prematurely. We were heading south on I-5, and when everyone but the semis were passing us, I tried to nonchalantly lean over to look at the speedometer but Hubby caught me and asked what I was doing, so I told him I was wondering how fast we were going. 65 miles an hour. Exactly the speed limit. As Hubby said, "The Highway Patrol isn't going to supplement the state budget by giving us a speeding ticket!" ARGH!
Then we had to listen to Bob Seeger CDs. Hubby's a die hard old rock and roll fan. ARGH!
I don't understand when Hubby got so much older than me!
We had a terrific dinner at a place called the Cracked Crab--the best clam chowder I've had in a long, long time. We're planning to go back in a couple days.
Tomorrow, we'll hit the beach. Later!