Fruit of her womb

As many of you know, my mother came to visit me in sunny Kaleefonya, so let me regale you with a tale of my mother's stay.

We started with figuring out the dates. "Which is the best time for you, my child?" she asked.

"Any time is good, with the exception of the last two weeks of August leading up to VMworld and first week of September, when the conference will be going on."

"Okay," she said and booked the tickets to arrive on August the 13th.

Her flight was one hour late, and I picked her up at the airport another hour later--though I was there just on time! She did not know that I would be waiting for her at the curb downstairs and waited to be picked up right at the spot where they leave the secure area. Shows how americanized I have become! After 30 minutes circling the airport and failing to see my dear mother, I finally parked and went to look for her inside. There we managed to miss each other, so I only found her another half an hour later, on my second frantic run through the airport.

All's well that ends well, and happily united, we went home.

To be honest, I was very nervous about her visit, harking back to the havoc that my father caused when he came to "help" me drive the Yeller cross-country from NC to CA. Turns out, I was mistaken, we had a great time together, and I was quite sad to drop her off at the airport two weeks later!

Among the things we did was go see the Winchester Mystery House, admire giant sequoias in the Big Basin Park, look at lots of critters at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and of course complete a pilgrimage to the Thunderhill track for a weekend with NASA.

This was my mom's first direct exposure to motorsports. She's a racing fan, actually, and I thought she might enjoy a ride on a couple laps with me in the race car. While she did not quite pass out from excitement, she also did not hate it and has shown remarkable trust in my ability to control the car and keep us both out of trouble.

All in all, it was really cool to have her here.


  1. I know, and she did not complain at all. Not about spending three hours on the road one-way, not about being in the middle of nowhere that the track is, not about the abysmal food, and certainly not about the infantility of my pastime! That's Mom for ya!