elfs | Wednesday: South to see my mother.

We woke up around 9:30 and immediately headed out for the open road. By "immediately" I mean that we succeeded in getting everyone dressed and out by 11:30. We grab drinks and head out.

And we drive forever. Florida's speed limit is 70 everywhere on the Interstate, and that's what we do, cruise control on.

To my utter amazement, Kouryou is wonderful. She's actually patient and playful the entire trip. I mean, six hours in the car and it's only the last half-hour that she's at all cranky, and even that's minor. And that's despite her spilling a whole container of orange juice into her lap and the seat of her carseat. After mopping it up (in the middle of a toll zone elevated bridge locking together several reinforced sandbars that traverse eleven miles of ocean with no facilities and no legal stopping) we continued on.

Ohmigawds, my mom has gotten old in the past five years. She reminds me of my grandmother. And she's so happy to have a grandchild. We go out to eat at some Italian place called The Pizza Loft that looks cheap but is actually very delicious... a bit salty for my taste, though. There are other kids there bombing around like maniacs, and Kouryou is much better behaved. Not perfect; she does climb out of her seat when she's done and wander around, but at least she's not tearing the place down the way those kids were.

I had also forgotten that my mom is a bit of a racist. She's happy that she got a decent place but she's upset that the price was so low "because blacks had moved into the neighborhood." I'm sure that what happened was that a few middle-class blacks moved in, "White flight" happened and property values plummeted. Then, poorer people moved into the neighborhood, the ethnic mix changed, and property values depressed further. Now, developers have found an area rich in golf courses and synagogues with low property values and are rebuilding it. The pattern is as old as Florida, and as sadly predictable.

We head back home where my mom is, well, my mom. She can't stop talking, trying to fill in every nook and cranny of possible alternatives to guarantee that nothing can go wrong. She gives Kouryou three gifts-- some puzzles, a doll, some jacks with superballs-- that Kouryou proceeds to scatter everywhere.

Despite how neat and clean the house looks, there are dust mites here bad, and the sneezing and stuffy nose keep me up late into the night. The bed is pretty miserable, too, but it's cheaper than a motel room, I suppose. We'll be getting one of those tomorrow.