Lost Wages …. Las Vegas … actually I say this in jest. I like Las Vegas well enough. I'm not fond of the downtown area or even the Strip, although it's a fascinating place for people watching and observing all things over-the-top and bizarre. The rest of the city and the suburbs though are just kind of normal. Neighborhoods, schools, supermarkets, fire stations … your typical city. David and I are not gamblers … at least in the slot machine, roulette wheel, pokey sense of gambling. We gamble a bit with the wind, weather and waves from time to time, but not cash.
The best part of Las Vegas this trip? I'm meeting David there. Yes, once again things are a bit off the plan. David's mum was in the hospital and is now in Rehab. She feels it's time for a bit more help and has asked her kids to find an assisted living facility close by. We're up to the challenge. We did the very same exercise last year around this time for Bea with good results.
Anyhow, a Southwest Air flight with one stop and a plane change in Nashville, Tennessee (Home of the Grand Ole Opry … don't forget) and 8-hours travel time and I'll be in Vegas reunited with David once again. Sigh! We've got to stop meeting like this.
A little trivia: Las Vegas translates as “the meadows”. A Mexican scout who was part of a trading party headed to Los Angeles in 1829 coined the name. He was able to water and rest there while heading west along the Old Spanish Trail from Mexico. In the 19th century, small parts of the Las Vegas Valley contained natural artesian wells that supported extensive green areas, an oasis you might say in the middle of the desert. In actuality, we'll be living near the Clark County Wetlands Park, part of the Las Vegas Wash, the very same “meadows” Rafael Rivera might have viewed back in the early 19th century.