Breakfast is my hardest meal to figure out. At home, I have hard boiled eggs ready so I get some protein and no carbs. My preferred cereal is granola but I don’t eat just a serving, I eat two and then the carbs pile up. When dining out, I have always preferred Belgian waffles covered in fresh fruit and whipped cream or French toast floating in a sea of syrup. I like a nice stack of pancakes drenched in melting butter and fruit syrup. I like carbs. Lots and lots of carbs. I guess that explains how I got into this situation.

I’m stuck with this low carb stuff now and so, I don’t like eating breakfast out. I can have bacon and eggs. By the time they helpfully add the toast and hash browns, I have 60 carbs on the plate and when they put the jelly down next to it, it is even more. It is also depressing. And expensive. That was the one thing I noticed most about Las Vegas, it was expensive. I know that all big cities are more expensive than my suburban existence, so this wasn’t odd at all.

While looking for a low carb alternative to snacking, I found a perfect breakfast for me. We were at CVS inside the Treasure Island Hotel and Casino and there was a bunch of premade sandwiches and salads and right there in the corner was a package with two hard boiled eggs, an ounce of cheese, and two saltine crackers. It proudly proclaimed “230 calories” right on the front. I don’t really care about the calories, but it was definitely low carb. I picked one up and then Dick decided it would make a perfect breakfast for him, too.

So my day started with me prepared. I rode the elevator down 35 floors, walked 2 to 3 football fields off to the left, rode the escalator up to the next floor, walked another half football field, and there was the coffee. None of the Vegas hotels now keep coffeepots in the rooms because they don’t have to so there!!! And we, the poor uncaffeinated guests just have to wander around like Moses in the Desert looking for our morning fix. I got mine, headed back retracing those same steps, and got my eggs out of the refrigerator in the room stored right where a coffeepot and/or microwave could have been.

I got the package open. I couldn’t get the cheese open. Dick managed. I tried the package containing the eggs. I couldn’t get it open. Dick couldn’t get it open. We struggled and still, there were the eggs, tantalizingly close, but wrapped up in plastic. Dick went on his hike to get coffee and I struggled some more with the damn eggs. I finally got a stone nail file out of my purse, poked it through the plastic which made a big enough hole to get my finger in, and then struggled some more to rip the package open and get the eggs out. There was a bit of water in there, too, and it was important to get the eggs out without getting the water on me or my stuff.

I think I burned 250 calories trying to get the damn 230 calories of food out of the wrapper. But it did taste good and by the time Dick returned from his travels to get coffee, I could tell him how to get into the eggs. We were now fed and caffeinated and could make our way out to the car and head for home.

We left just a few minutes after 9 which meant that in a very short time, it was going to be after 10 as we crossed the border into Arizona. I was worried about Vegas rush hour traffic, but we essentially missed all that and were able to get onto the first major route to Phoenix.

We had looked ahead to see where the most snow had fallen. We knew the Vegas airport was again open because we could hear the planes landing. Where we were, there was no snow on the roads and only a dusting on some of the colder ground level things. But we had heard that parts of 40 and 93 had been closed the day before. Luckily, all routes were open for our travel. Flagstaff had gotten dumped on the day before we went to the Grand Canyon, and they got really hammered the day after we left. But we didn’t have to go near Flagstaff to get home and we had smooth sailing.

We stopped for lunch at Kingman (the place we didn’t stop at on the way up) and south of that, there was no more snow even close to the roads. The mountaintops were covered and it was very pretty, but our entire trip was done without driving on snow (except for in the parking lot of the Jack in the Box where we ate lunch).

I had spoken briefly with Pam and she mentioned that it had rained for the previous 24 hours in Phoenix and they had some roads shut from flooding, so we were going to have to worry about that. But not yet, water comes and goes quickly in the desert.

According to the Garmin, we were going to arrive at Pam’s house at 4.11. We figured that would get us there before rush hour in Phoenix. And if we had been in Cleveland or Charleston, that would have been true. But not quite in Phoenix. With the bazillion people travelling into and out of the city, many have a stagger start and stop time so the roads can have a longer, but less clogged up, rush hour. That meant we were in the early stages of it as we tried to get across Phoenix. We came in on the west side and Pam lives on the east side.

It took us an hour to get there via (as they say here) the 10 and the 60. I have no idea why they put the “the” in there, but it is ubiquitous here. And here is where we are and now it sounds funny if I don’t add it to the route number while I’m out here. That nonsense stops as soon as I get back to 26 or 95.

By the time we got to Pam’s, I was a nervous wreck. Dick managed to drive in that crap without knowing where he was going and crossing three or four lanes in this direction or that. I just kept trying not to scream. I watched the red and yellow lines on the Garmin and was immensely relieved when they all went away.

To add to the delight of the urban drive time, just north of Phoenix it started to rain. It would sprinkle and then rain and then pour for ninety seconds and then rain and then sprinkle and then rain and then stop and then rain some more. There was no set speed that was correct for the windshield wipers, either. It was just not a nice drive. But then, at the very end, we got a rainbow. I guess that was supposed to make up for the rest of it.

We got home (around 4.30) and Pam had a turkey breast in the Crockpot. When we were ready to eat, we fleshed that out with some sides. It was delicious and didn’t have us in another damn restaurant. I’m not the biggest fan of dining out and doing so for meal after meal for days has been exhausting. I would rather just cook. For me, it is easier and far less time consuming. And usually tastes better.

We sat around and relaxed. Pam and I crocheted. Dick did not. We talked and laughed and then finally all tumbled off to bed. And so went another day of vacation.