I Visit My First Mission

I know, I live in California and I've never been to a mission. I'm ashamed of myself to say it, but it's true. And it's a wee bit funny that my first mission I go to is Texan. Sunday I was all prepared to show up at my parents' house after our nice evening out as a married couple and my parents nearly kicked us out for more time alone. I blinked at Brad a few times and off we went. My parents had recommended the missions, so that is what we did.

Our first stop was San Juan. I learned about the mission's goals and way of life and community.

There is something so amazingly mystical and mysterious about ruins. I wish at times I could jump in time and see who lived in these walls. What did they do? What did they look like? When did the walls begin to deteriorate and the only occupants were the spiders and lizards? It just gets my imagination running and I want to sit there for hours and dream the possibilities.

We visited the lovely Mission Espada, which my Latin Lover coined as Mission Empanada.

As we walked out the door to leave for San Juan my mother asked me if I wanted to pack a picnic lunch. I said no, because we were on vacation! Brad and I love to eat out. Well, here we drive to the middle of Nowhere Special where the holes in the walls are far and few between and all look rather dubious. We finally gave up the search and ate McDonald's in the car. Plus, it wasn't until Brad was leaning out the window to get our food did I notice the Subway sign across the street. Epic... fail!

We also visited San Espenada 

I take the time to thank the invention of selfies as I can now be in the family scrapbooks!

San Jose.

I visited three missions in one day. I now feel quite educated.