Trees and Desert and more trees then . . . a prison town?

Here I am in the Hilton Garden Inn in good old Redding, CA. Actually, who knew? Redding is beautiful. From my hotel window you can see the river (the . . . River, named after the . . . tribe). Anyhow, Kyle and I drove down here to meet my Dad and his brother, Albert, to change cars. I have officially inherited a 1984 Mereceds named Mel, it's yellow and apparently has more issues than I thought - but I'm thankful for it. At least it doesn't need a new transmission . . . yet. Not like Tommy the Tank who is on his way to LA as I type. Why do I not like the 9 year younger and better car? I just don't know. Some iron deficiency in my brain maybe . . .

So it was only 425-ish miles to get here, which in my head did NOT translate 8 hours (7 driving, a good lunch and gas and one rest stop due to dizzy car sicknessy feelings), but in reality it did. But Southern, OR is lovely, albeit freakishly long. From Portland to the tip (I live off of i5 exit 301) to Oregon and down to exit 675 in California. Growing up I don't remember the exits being numbered, if I had I would've had a better idea of how big the state was or where we were located in it. In Oregon the names of the exits are far less useful than the numbers.

So, I still don't have the internet at home since I am waiting to find out if everyone will be evicted since the building sold - or if our rent will just go up. I never thought I would hope for my rent to go up . . . but I prefer it to moving! Thus I have forgotten how to be interesting in a blog.

On the road again . . .