Anyway, the drive ended up being about ten hours each

way. Once we got past Phoenix, the scenery ended up being like a giant flashback of our drive across Texas on I-10 last year - brown foothills dotted with little scrubs, and occasionally some rocks were thrown in for variety. We stopped at the most enormous truck stop we'd ever seen for breakfast - there must have been over 150 tractor trailer trucks there (the photo at left shows barely a fraction of them). Eddy, I thought of you! The stop had a cute little restaurant that had possibly the best breakfast buffet ever, The Iron Skillet, where Tim indulged his Atkins fantasy with Western Omelettes, sausage, and enough bacon to make my blood pressure rise ten points. And the general store there had all sorts of things for truckers, including these weird weaponlike things called Tire Thumpers. I think they sell these same things under a different moniker at VIP...can anyone confirm? LOL.

But we did get to see the Hoover Dam up close and personal (from the safety of our vehicle, since heights and I don't really get along). It was sort of ironic because everyone asked if we were going to see the dam whilst on our honeymoon last year, and since our flight flew over the dam, we said yes, but now we can really say we saw it since we had to drive through it. Actually it was really

impressive up close - like the Las Vegas strip, it makes you feel really small and insignificant. What's next - the Grand Canyon??
Tim's Uncle Connie (Cornelius) and Aunt Eileen (Tim's mom Breda's older sister) are two of the most delightful people I've had the pleasure of meeting. They're both from Ireland, and since they both moved here when they were young adults, still have their accents, which make everyday stories they tell sound so much cooler. Of course Ella took a day to get used to them, but before we knew it she was following them both around begging for food, helping Eileen with laundry, and marching around the neighborhood with Connie on his walks (although he made it very clear he would not take her out if she were wearing her pink sweater - his neighbors would never let him hear the end of it!!!).

One night Tim and I went to our favorite Vegas haunt, The Cheesecake Factory, the haven of all things fattening and fried. The crowning glory? Deep Fried Macaroni & Cheese. Yeah, it sounds like the one of the most filthy trailer-trash thing out there, but we were really surprised when it arrived at our table. Instead of being a big breaded grease-oozing mass, it was four balls which looked almost like big hushpuppies. They were mini penne pastas in a rich alfredo-like sauce that were balled up, tossed in breadcrumbs, then lightly fried, so that when you dug in with your fork, the cheeses were perfectly melted. And the most surprising thing was that they weren't greasy at all! If any of you faithful readers get a chance to go to a Cheesecake Factory soon, definitely try them. YUM.
But they weren't nearly as good as the Mango Margaritas - Gil I definitely think you'd like those.