Finally to Texas
Today was relatively uneventful, and so there's not much to blog. I wrote a considerable amount about the differences between New York and Texas in my head on the way here. Maybe one day I'll actually write it all down and remember all of the things I thought of during my multi-state trek. Here's one for you, to whet your appetite:
I did remember one story I meant to tell yesterday. At one of our rest stops, I finished up walking the dogs and was preparing to put them back in the car so I could go do my business. As I reached for the keys in my jean pocket, I felt nothing. No stab in the leg, no pointy bulge.
Do you know how disconcerting it is to realize you don't have your keys when you're hundreds of miles away from home, and hundreds of miles away from anyone who knows you? My head was spinning for half a second, until I remembered that Meg pooped.
Non sequitur? Not really. I had stuffed the poop bag holder into my pocket along with my keys. When I went to grab a bag to clean up after Meg, I just pulled until one came loose. Apparently, the poop bag wasn't the only thing that was freed from the confines of said jean pocket.
So, we made our way back to the dog area looking for where the keys might have fallen. As we approached, I saw a little white flag waving in the wind. It was the poop bag holder, beckoning us to return and rescue it. A few feet away, on our way to get the abandoned poop bags, I came across a shiny pile of salvation.
Whew! That could have gone wrong in so many ways. My keys really are a bit sparkly, so an interested squirrel could have absconded with them. A hawk could have flown them away. An evil-doer could have grabbed them and run. A mole could have popped out of the ground and taken them to hang over its fireplace. So many things. And yet, thankfully, none of those crises occurred in the few moments between the poop and the car.
Today, there were no such heart-pounding moments, with equally heart-lifting outcomes. However, my heart is lifted to be back in Texas, where the pink yuccas are in full bloom. My body temperature is lifted too, unfortunately. It's icky hot, and it's only May.
This evening, Melinda entertained a host of guests via phone call and actual visit, all concerned over whether I had arrived in time to take her to her surgery. Tomorrow, we'll make ready (i.e. go to the grocery store). Tuesday, we surge.
The girls are very happy to be back in a home with a recliner, for appropriate between-leg snuggling.
Texas: Pothole.
New York: That's not a pothole. THIS is a pothole.
Ohio: Lightweights.
I did remember one story I meant to tell yesterday. At one of our rest stops, I finished up walking the dogs and was preparing to put them back in the car so I could go do my business. As I reached for the keys in my jean pocket, I felt nothing. No stab in the leg, no pointy bulge.
Do you know how disconcerting it is to realize you don't have your keys when you're hundreds of miles away from home, and hundreds of miles away from anyone who knows you? My head was spinning for half a second, until I remembered that Meg pooped.
Non sequitur? Not really. I had stuffed the poop bag holder into my pocket along with my keys. When I went to grab a bag to clean up after Meg, I just pulled until one came loose. Apparently, the poop bag wasn't the only thing that was freed from the confines of said jean pocket.
So, we made our way back to the dog area looking for where the keys might have fallen. As we approached, I saw a little white flag waving in the wind. It was the poop bag holder, beckoning us to return and rescue it. A few feet away, on our way to get the abandoned poop bags, I came across a shiny pile of salvation.
Whew! That could have gone wrong in so many ways. My keys really are a bit sparkly, so an interested squirrel could have absconded with them. A hawk could have flown them away. An evil-doer could have grabbed them and run. A mole could have popped out of the ground and taken them to hang over its fireplace. So many things. And yet, thankfully, none of those crises occurred in the few moments between the poop and the car.
Today, there were no such heart-pounding moments, with equally heart-lifting outcomes. However, my heart is lifted to be back in Texas, where the pink yuccas are in full bloom. My body temperature is lifted too, unfortunately. It's icky hot, and it's only May.
This evening, Melinda entertained a host of guests via phone call and actual visit, all concerned over whether I had arrived in time to take her to her surgery. Tomorrow, we'll make ready (i.e. go to the grocery store). Tuesday, we surge.
The girls are very happy to be back in a home with a recliner, for appropriate between-leg snuggling.
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