We left this:
drove all day, pulled into the gas station in Primm, Nevada (state line) around 4:30 for fuel, and wondered if we should turn back. Can you read the name of the place? It's actually called "Terrible's."
It was about 110 degrees, and filled with battling SUVs. The extra wide ones, built to hold the extra wide people who were inside standing 20+ in line for their extra wide frappucino nutrition. I joined the line. The place smelled like the sewer line had broken, but it also smelled that way three weeks ago on our drive up... eeeuch.
The baRRista laughed in my face in a Starbucks snotty way when I couldn't remember the Starbucksian word for medium. (omitting right wing rant here... besides I spent years satirizing Starbucks.)
L.A. is icky sticky hot and I feel so restless and out of sorts. Sure tomorrow it will feel like home. Molly looks depressed. There seem to be fewer fish in the pond, same number of chickens and one new dove. Way too many people and traffic in L.A. but I'm not the first one to notice that.
One more closeup of nasty Primm, NV: