(Just a quick note: If you are landed here because of a comment I left on your book blog, you might be more interested in my review blog, Carstairs Considers. But you are very welcome to stick around here, too.)
The middle of March, I met up with my family in San Diego. We'd done it a couple of years ago, really enjoyed it, and decided to do it again.
Mom and Dad rented up a place to stay right on the beach. It was a different place from two years ago, but still very nice. In fact, we might have liked it a bit more in some ways. The plan was to enjoy the beach, plays games, and be a bit of a tourist.
We did still play tourist a bit, spending one day at Sea World and another at the San Diego Wild Animal Park.
However, we got sick while we were there. My nephew had gotten sick a couple of days before, and Dad started to get sick our first night. I was just getting over being sick, but I got sick again. And my brother got sick. The ladies stayed healthy, until we left. Then they got sick at home. What's the weirdest is we all seemed to have slightly different symptoms. I was the quickest to recover, and it took some longer than others to get over it. But eventually we all did.
So it was a bummer of a trip in some ways. But we did still have fun, and we are glad we went.
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