Monterey

The skies were blue. The fog burned off long before we woke up. The temps were in the 70s. It was an uncharacteristically beautiful winter weekend in Monterey.

Liberty and I were in Monterey for a dance convention. It looked like the perfect recipe for a girly, fun, memorable three days.

And then she got sick, really sick, and we spent Friday night in the Emergency Room at CHOMP. The more sleep deprived you are, the funnier the acronym is. CHOMP. Chomp. chomp. Community Hospital Of Monterey Peninsula.

Our murse, John, was a jovial, rotund figure. Skilled too. The MD, a, preppy blonde mother of mother of three sons under the age of six, had no patience for a 10-year-old who'd been up 16 hours by the time we arrived in the ER. Fortunately John did.

Saturday we spent mostly sleeping. And on Sunday Liberty danced a bit and we headed home. With the Monterey sun still shining.