Sunday, September 30, 2012

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

Nick and I went to fiber fair today.  We saw all types of yarn and tools for knitting, spinning, weaving and all sorts of other things.  Yarn-producing animals were there too.  The llamas are so strange and mystical looking.  They have eyes like you would expect to see on a Disney character.   There were lots of sheet and goats as well as a few huge rabbits that produce angora wool.

Oh my oh my.  I felt like a kid in a candy show (so what if it’s trite, it works for me).  I want it all.  I want all of the beautiful yarn.  I want to spin and to weave- even though I don’t know how.   The colors, weights, textures and even the smells of the various yarns were intoxicating.  There were even soaps made from sheep and goats milk.

Nick commented on how “nice” the alpacas smelled.  They have a sort of sweet smell.   He speculated that a farmer might actually get to know his animals by the scent.  He might be able to tell if something is “off”, and the animal is sick.   I suspect there is some of this although I think that it is most likely not something that the farmer is conscious of.

I know that all of my kids smell different.  Now I am just sounding like a weirdo.   But it is true.  I am sure on some primal level we know our child’s scent as a survival thing.

I will always remember the first time I held Morgan after he was born.  He had this wonderful smell.  I held his head near mine and breathed him in.  I am sure he knew me by my scent too.  And then this magical thing happened.  We both started to sort of “hum” in tune with each other.

Ok, so now, back to the subject of what I am writing here.  Dreams.   As we were driving home from the fair, Nick and I spoke about our dreams.   The dream of owning a farm where Nick builds things and I weave and knit and sew and act out all of my creative, artists fantasies.  I am overwhelmed by how much I want to do in my life.  I feel such that a huge part of me is this creative self that is trying to jump out of my skin and do it all.  I need more time.  I need to live and be healthy for at least another hundred years.  I feel that I will never, ever be done.

But, I told Nick, I feel that it is too late and I am not realistically going to realize many of my dreams.  Nick said he doesn’t feel that way at all.  I am not sure what that means.  Am I a pessimist and he an optimist.  Or is he a dreamer and while I am more practical and realistic.  I don’t know.

Nick asked me what my dreams are.  I already wrote about the some of my artistic dreams; knitting, weaving, sewing, quilting.  (I haven’t even started on my passion for photography).   But the dreams that I am pretty sure I will not realize are more on the professional level.  I have wanted to be a doctor since I was 9 years old.  My Uncle Ralph was an orthopedic surgeon and the coolest guy alive.   He was handsome and kind.  He had a cabin and a boathouse and he took us fishing and water skiing.  And he saved peoples lives.   I wanted to be like that.  Not the fishing part, but the helping people and saving lives.  I was passionate about it. 

In high school I read about women who became my heroes like Marie Curie and Elizabeth Blackwell and Susan B Anthony.  Even my own pediatrician was a woman- unusual in the 60s.

When I started college at the University of Maryland in 1972, I signed up for an 18-credit load in pre-med courses.   And I failed at most of them miserably.   I was overwhelmed.  I was lost in the crowd.   I went from being a star student in high school in a very small class, to one of the masses in a huge school.  There were 300 people in my lectures.  There were only 55 students in my whole high school.  I was in way over my head.

On top of that, I was living out of my mom’s home for the first time in my life, and, I was an 18-year-old newlywed.   I thought I was such a grown up, but I didn’t even know how to be a kid.   The other “girls” my age were patronizing when they found out I was married.  They would ask, “Oh do you have to ask your husband permission” for whatever we were doing.   Poop, and shame on them all.

Ok, so I am not a doctor.  Several times over the years I have thought of trying again.  But first I had to graduate from college, which I did just after my 50th birthday.   

My other dream/ fantasy was that, since I was a young hippie, I would grow older as an older hippie.  I envisioned myself as a gray haired woman with long braids and wearing worn out overalls while raising goats.  I had romanticized it so much; I figured it must at least be a possibility.  Until I tasted goat milk for the first time.  Yuck.  I hate the stuff.  Oh well.

So here I am, 58 years old still wondering what I want to do when I grow up.  I suspect this is not uncommon among baby boomers.

So now I sit and dream about cleaning the house (a very Zen thing to do by the way) and maintaining a beautiful garden and yard.  Well, the cleaning thing is going pretty well.  It would be even better if I were the only one making the house dirty.  But I share the house with a husband, son, three cats and now a puppy.

As for the garden, well, I still love the idea of a garden.  I have grown small vegetable gardens with the kids.   I love fresh food grown by my own hand in dirt that I have dug.  But wait.  I hate the bugs.  I am not crazy about heat.  I am allergic to poison ivy.   So, in the spring, I put a few plants in the ground and I care for them.  I make sure they are watered and fertilized.   Then the days get hotter and buggier and I surrender the garden to the elements.

So this brings me back to the question.  What are my dreams?  Will I ever get to accomplish them?  Have I already accomplished much of what I need to in order to be the whole person I am, or should feel I am?   What else do I want to do?  What will I put my efforts into doing?   

Maybe I should write a bucket list.  I have a bit of a bucket list that rattles around in my head.   I really want to go back to every place we have lived overseas and when possibly, go back to the houses we lived in and knock on the door.  I want to see and feel my presence there.  Not to relive the time there as much as acknowledge that I have been in these places and spaces.  That my hand has touched the front door, or that I have walked and breathed in these spaces.  It is a sort of time travel/ spiritual journey I want to go on.

After my mom died, I went to visit Portland, Oregon (and Courtney who lives there).  I went to the house my family lived in when I was born.  I knocked on the door and introduced myself.   Nick and Courtney were with me.  They wanted nothing to do with it and went off for a walk.  I felt my mother and father in that house.  My mother looked out that kitchen window into that back yard.  She was there.  I was there though I was a baby and I cannot remember. 

I have written way more than I expected to tonight.  I have probably done a bit of rambling, but that’s a good thing.  I hope that when I read this one day in the future I will know and understand it all.

Good night moon- there’s a full moon!

To sleep, perchance to dream....

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Puppy Love!

After hours spent on the internet and hours spent at the pound and adoption events, we found the right dog.  He is crazy about Austin and Austin is crazy about him (we all are).

The puppy doesn't have a name yet.   He is a Dachshund/ Border Collie mix, we were told.  he has short legs though his litter mates had the same body type with long legs.

The cats are not terribly interested in him which is a good thing.  He is interested in everything.  That means he will chew anything, so we are ever vigilante.

This morning I looked in on Austin only to find Austin and the puppy snuggled up together, both of them sound asleep.

I guess they call it puppy love for a reason!

Thursday, September 27, 2012


When I go to the gym, when I ask anyone that works there how they are, the answer is always “awesome”.

The other day I asked my trainer, Neil, why he always says he is awesome?  I really like his answer.  He said he might feel kind of blah, but if he says that as an answer, it makes the other person feel blah too and reinforces the feeling to him.  But when he tells me that he is awesome, he is telling himself that too and it makes him feel good all day.

When I went into the gym yesterday, several folk there asked me how I was.  For the first time, I said “awesome”.  It works.   I felt good all day.   I felt like I hade more energy.

I am really good at saying, “I’m tired”, or “I’m kind of blah today”.   And I wouldn’t be lying.  But I like the feeling of saying I am awesome.

Yes, I know that I am being simplistic really.  I know that sad and bad things happen and it is all right to feel down and blah.   I am not saying that those feelings should be suppressed or ignored.  I just think that I tend to accent the negative too much and bring myself down.

Yesterday was mostly a pretty good day.  I went to the gym, which always makes me happy.  I gave blood in the afternoon.  That makes me feel good and useful and all those things.

But I had some down times yesterday.  I was really sad about Amoeba dying.   It made me remember all the other deaths and a loss in my life and those to come, and that was a downer.   However, I was able to be sad without being consumed by it.  I am good at being consumed.  I have a lot of practice.   I have a joyful self at my core and I like that piece of myself.

I guess I am not really learning anything new.  Think positive, feel positive.  But a reminder and a refresher is a good thing.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

RIP Amoeba Pete the Cat

Amoeba the cat died today.   He was Courtney's cat that she brought home from college one summer.  When she went back to school she asked if Amoeba could stay here and I said yes.  

And so it began.  The pet parade into the Sherwood house.  As one might guess, having five children by choice, I am not a fan of "only-es". Once we had Amoeba, I felt that he needed "siblings".    So, Courtney and I went a a rescue event and picked out a kitten and brought her home.  The kids named her Beta.  She is still here, plodding along.  She loves me, and the rest of the family.

Tigger and Pooh came later, and then Black cat, who had health issues and died at a young age.  All five of them are in the picture below.

Amoeba lived here for a few years.  When Morgan and Robin moved to Portland they took him with them.  And there he has lived ever since.  And today, that's where he died.

I jokingly refer to Amoeba as my "first grandchild".  Well, at least my first grand cat.  Now I have a lot of them.

Five Sherwood cats looking at a squirrel.  Amoeba is the third one from the left.

So Meebs as you were affectionately called, or Amoeba Pete.  Good bye.  Sweet dreams.   Thank you for being in our lives.  We love you wherever you are.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Cool sunny days give me energy!

September 25, 2012

I have been running at full tilt today.  Went to the gym and worked on the elliptical for 30 minutes.  Then I went to see what Neil, my trainer was up to.  He was working with someone else.  It seems I came in an hour early!   So I am going back for my training session tomorrow.

The early workout got the adrenalin going.  I went to my sister's for a bit to help her with things.  Then I rushed home with barely enough time to change out of my gym clothes and into some “grown up” clothes so I could get to Starbucks.

Tuesday has been the day of the Breastfeeding Café’ that I started almost two and a half years ago.  I am always so pleased when moms come- and they usually do.  Some of the moms are pretty regular while others come once just to ask questions and meet other moms.  I always take a notebook and my knitting in case nobody shows up so I have something to do.  I rarely have a chance to knit or write!

I sat down to go over my schedule and write down some things I plan to do and some other things that I want to do.  Life looks pretty busy right now.  That is a good thing.  Especially when I am busy doing things I enjoy.

After Starbucks I went and got my nails done.  I haven’t done that since before our trip, and I really enjoyed being pampered.   When we lived in Bangkok, before Courtney was born, I used to get my hair and nails done every week.  It’s funny to think about because I was so young.   But I got to spend time chatting in Thai and having fun playing grown up!  It was so cheap in Bangkok, how could I not go to the salon every week!
After I got home I at down to try to work on our budget/ money.  How depressing!  Now that Nick has no work until January, we are living on less income than we spend on our household expenses.  At times like this I think about getting a job as a cashier at Target or something.  But I don’t think that would be a good thing to do.  I have to hope for more lactation consulting work.   I need to finish up my brochure that a friend designed for me a long time ago.   That’s the work I love, and the income, though irregular, is decent.

Tidbits; yesterday I went to see a new (to me) dermatologist for the first time.  After filling out all the papers, I was lead to an exam room by someone in scrubs.  She asked me if I was there for an all over skin check to which I said “yes”.   Then she asked me if I would like to get undressed and wait for the doctor.   I told her that I would prefer to meet the doctor in my clothes, thank you very much.  She was surprised, but didn’t see any point in engaging in combat, so she left me there.  Fully clothed.

This is my unfinished sketch, in fabric, of one of the views of the Grand Canyon that I saw this summer

The other tidbit about yesterday; when we were at the Grand Canyon, the artist in residence was a quilter. She made quits of landscapes.  Mostly they were small, but there was a variety on sizes.  I was so intrigued and inspired that I just knew that I had to try to do what she had some.  I bought some fabric for this project a week or so ago, and yesterday I finally felt in the right frame of mind/ patience in inspiration to give it a try.  I worked for several hours, cutting out bits of fabric to simulate the brush, canyon and the sky.  I worked with a hot iron and various types of sticky things to make the fabric do what I wanted it to do.  I am absolutely thrilled with the product/ art that I made.   It is not complete yet.  I have to make some stitched details, but I am very happy.  I have not show it around because I am pretty sure most people would just look at it and say “gee that’s swell” or something, to humor me, but would not appreciate it like I do.   I may post a picture of it here on my blog.

One more thing.  Morgan is off crystal hunting with some friends, near Reno.  He posted a picture of himself on Facebook that is amazing.  He has such a pure, happy smile that it warms my heart. 

 How did Nick and I produce these amazing, puzzling, complex, bright people?  They are all kind, caring, compassionate and honest.  They are all creative and really smart. And they are all different from each other and unique, but they all love each other and are good, adult friends to one another.  How does that happen? (they are all a little eccentric, weird too)

Ok, off to bed now.  Going to the gym in the morning.  Giving blood in the afternoon.   Drinking lots of water all day.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Writing when I should be sleeping

This is my pregnant belly 6 weeks before my first baby, Courtney was born.  Picture taken January 15, 1978
I found some pictures of myself that were taken when I was pregnant with Courtney.  I had put these pictures into the bottom of a box, no doubt thinking that it was the safest place for them.    After a while, I convinced myself that the pictures were lost for eternity.

Imagine my surprise when I found them the other day!  They were in a box under a bunch of books of paper dolls.   (I collect paper dolls).

There is one picture of me, in profile, not wearing anything but a smile and a big belly.  I will not publish that one.  The main reason I won't publish it is that I don't want to embarrass my daughter (the baby in my belly).  The other reason I won't publish the nude photograph is that somehow somewhere the picture would show up somewhere silly in an attempt to either embarrass me or just to show off in a sinister way, what a 23 year old pregnant woman looks like. The other three pictures are very tame and I will probably publish them here.

It is always fun and a bit of a surprise seeing how we looked years ago.  I look and look and I wonder where that "me" went.    I know that virtually every mother had been pregnant.  I know that *my* pregnancies were no more or less special to my families than the others were to their families.  Yet I look at my pictures and am so amazed.   I held life inside of me.  I grew it and nourished it and birthed it and then nourished again- at the breast instead of the umbilical cord.

They say that it takes a baby a little while to realize that it is a separate person from it's mother.  I am sure this is even more so when a family practices attachment parenting and long term breastfeeding as our family did.

A three month old baby will smile at it's reflection in a mirror.  At some point he realizes that the reflection is not just some random baby but himself.

When I first learned that I was pregnant, I rushed home and looked into the bathroom mirror.  I expected to see something profound and all I saw was myself.   I started into my pupils hoping to find something.  Some universal message of motherhood.   Maybe I did see it.   I know I saw my life changing.

Now, when I look in the mirror I see my parents.  It depends which way my hair is sticking up and how puffy my face is when I wake up as to which parent I start each day looking like.  It varies and changes.

I look at the pictures of my children over their lives and try to see the young man with a beard as the babe at my breast.   The toothless smiles all gummy and sweet take me back to that place of being a mother.  The place of learning your child's needs, wants, likes and dislikes.     Those early years seem so hard and exhausting.    But now, looking back, I would love to have some of those days back.  I would love to take my child up in my arms and cuddle while we read a book together.

Now I am required to stand a respectable distance away.  Give a hug when they are coming and leaving, but other wise, not the same kind of physical intimacy that being the mother of a baby or small child requires.   When the babies and kids were little, I would feel totally touched out by the end of the day.  Now I am able to sit and knit or read or watch TV and nobody climbs on me or demands my attention.  But when I get the chance to have a little one in my arms or on my lap I do love to breath it all in before it flutters away.  Babies and children are such magical, fleeting beings.

The other thing that is something of a surprise is how much you love them when they don't really need you.   There are these five adults in the world that Nick and I gave life to and shared space with and now they are independent thinking adults.   There's nobody leaning on me when I am trying to do something.  There's nobody banging on the bathroom door when I am trying to "go".   There are no little handprints in places that you cannot figure out how they got there.

And there is the surprise of looking at old pictures and realizing how beautiful you were even though you didn't think so.   Yup.  There's that too.

                                           This is me in labor on the day Courtney was born.
                           And here is my beautiful baby, Courtney and her terribly young mother, me.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

I can't think of anything to say!

It's almost fall.  Leaves are starting to change colors.

We’ve been home now for over a week and it is so strange that I am not writing all the time.  When we were traveling, I couldn’t wait to get a chance to write about where we had been and what we had seen.  Now, I don’t.

There are of course a lot of different factors.  First off, at home, I have a “life”. There are things to do that are normal every day things like cooking and cleaning and going to the gym.  These are not exotic or exciting; I have done them before, so I don’t think I have anything to write about.  I don’t feel like I have anything to say.

In fact, I have a lot to say.  If you know me, you know that to be true.  When I get started, sometimes it is hard to stop me.  I love to talk.  Not to show off, just to be a part of whatever is going on around me.  I love to be engaged in my life and in the lives of the people around me.   Even if it is just a quick chat with a stranger at a check out counter, I thrive on the contact and connection.

Yesterday I didn’t write because I was having a rotten day.  No, I am not going to deny the bad things in my life by not writing about them.  I just think that sometimes I spout things out too quickly and regret them later.  The personal things I could say that might be harsh of negative toward someone I care for needs to be written in a private journal.  Not this public blog.

That said, Monday I did some yard work.  I was careful to wear long pants, shoes and socks (as opposed to the sandals I usually wear), and gloves.  It never occurred to me until Monday evening that I might get poison ivy on my face.  Well, I did.  It was just a small patch, under my eye, next to my nose.   Lovely.  And my right hip- sciatica, was killing me whenever I sat down-, which is something I like to do.

When I woke up yesterday, the patch of poison ivy had developed some lovely pustules.  Swell.  And it was a gloomy, rainy day, and my hip was hurting.    So what did I do?  I went to the gym for the first time since we have been back.  My trainer was not too hard on me, but it really did feel great to work out again!

After the gym, I went and got my haircut, and went to my weekly Breastfeeding Café’ activity at Starbucks.   With the stormy weather and talk of tornados, only one mom and her three year old were there.  We had a nice visit.  Her daughter is really sweet and smart and I have been enjoying watching her grow from a newborn to a three year old with joy!

I spent the night at my sister’s house last night. We always have fun.  We practically speak each other’s sentences we are so close.  And we laugh a lot.   We stayed up too late watching TV.  We watched the movie “TheBest Exotic Marigold Hotel”.    Since I am an English TV show lover, I knew all of the actors.     One line in the movie that I really liked was “It will all turn out good in the end, and if it’s not good, then it isn’t the end”

Today was a most beautiful day.  It was clear and sunny and not too warm.  Just right.   I went to the doctor with my sister, a cardiologist, and we were both pleased that she is doing well.   I know that good news made the sun shine brighter.

Then we went for a little drive.   We went west, first to the Loudoun County animal shelter in hopes of meeting the [dog] love of my life.  No luck.  Then we went to Round Hill and had some pie and coffee.  We found a lovely gallery and a weaving studio.  The weaving studio got me really excited!  I am going to find a time and some money (where?  I don’t know) and sign up.  I have wanted to know how to weave for as long as I can remember.   Of course, it makes a lot of sense to learn yet another craft so I can have even more WIPs (works in progress).

Not much on for tomorrow.  I hope to get to the gym.  The cats have fleas and I need to make vet appointments for them anyway.   Who knows what else tomorrow will bring.

A few minutes ago, while looking at the Washington Post online, I found out that Jacque Brel is playing in Alexandria.  How exciting!  Nick and I plan to go.

Ok, that’s enough for someone who doesn’t have anything ti write about.

Nite nite.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Now that we are home, what am I supposed to do?

We have only been home since Monday.  The day we got home I had all sorts of energy.  I washed dishes and swept the floor and whatever it is I do in the house.  Since that day I have been sort of wandering around the house not knowing what to do or where to start.

True to form, for me, I make lists.  I had a list for Wednesday that went something like this:
Clean bathrooms
Sweep and mop kitchen floor
Clean whole kitchen
Work on paying bills

As I get the chores done I check them off.  I do not know why, but I have always been a list maker.   When I am going on a trip, or even just to spend the night at my sister's house, I have to make a list of what to take.  I love marking things as done.  I feel like I have accomplished something.    When we were first married, and a few years later after Courtney was born, I would make lists of what I had gotten done.  I used to show Nick and say "see what I have done today."   It has always been hard for me to "do nothing".   I am usually knitting or cleaning when we watch TV in the evening.

Actually, in the last year or so, with Nick retired and only working occasionally, I have become a bit of a slug when Nick is at home.   We sit together and watch TV.   I feel a bit guilty about not doing something productive, but I am learning to feel less guilty and more accepting.

It is getting harder to get started.  Harder to make myself work.  The house is messier, but comfortable.  When there are no little ones crawling around or needing to be chased and fed all the time, you adjust to not doing those things.

So, what am I doing this weekend?  I honestly do not know.

This is a picture of us from our 1981 trip to Lake Havasu City and London Bridge.   Morgan was about 5 months old and Courtney was 3 years old.  And I was not even 30 yet!

Nite nite.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Meanwhile, Back at Home

We got home from our trip yesterday.  I feel like I have been in constant motion ever since we walked in the door.  Of course, I haven’t.  But I have been “doing”.  Last evening I did several loads of laundry- still more to do.  Did some dishes- Nick helped.  Not sure what else.

My car is having battery troubles.  I tried to start it yesterday and discovered that the battery is/ was dead.  Nick charged it and drove it around a bit today.  Then, when I went to leave for my Breastfeeding Café’ at Starbucks, the car was dead again.   It has been charged up some more, and may work.  But tomorrow I am going to have it checked out.

I took over a thousand pictures on our trip.   Something happened when I was loading them onto Nick’s computer so that the pictures are not all in order on my memory cards.  I know, this is probably not possible, but it is true. 

I have just spent a couple of hours looking at one cards worth of pictures.  I haven’t even started to look at the other cards worth.  There are two SD cards worth of pictures.

Most of the pictures are great.  I want to have another photography show.  But I want to do so many things with the pictures.   Alter them on photo shop.   Make other types of art with them –print making stuff, sewing techniques.   On the trip, there were times I lost sleep just thinking about all of the possibilities.

We saw so many wonderful places and such diverse scenery.  The Grand Canyon was by far the most beautiful and inspiring place for me.  It took my breath away- both by it’s beauty and literally because the altitude was more than I could handle.   

I have gotten some amazing shots of the Grand Canyon. 

There are so many things that we saw and did that I haven’t even written about.  I have to get to that so I don’t get too mixed up and forget what we saw where and when.

Life is too short to squeeze it all in!

Monday, September 10, 2012

We're Home!

After over 6,000 miles on the road, we are home!   Going to bed now.  Will write more later.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

In Kentucky they say "y'all" and sound sweet when they do

Our trip is winding down.  Tonight is our last night in a campground.  Tomorrow night we are overnighting in Ohio.  Then we head for home on Monday.  We figure it will probably be late Monday when we get home.

The last few days have consisted of a lot of driving and some sightseeing.  I cannot remember it all now.  I’ll have to jot some notes so I can give the correct information next time I write.

Nick and I have really enjoyed the trip and each other’s company.  It’s funny, I brought along some CDs to listen to in the car, and we also brought a couple of audio books.  Nick recorded some Garrison Keillor and other comedy to listen to.  We did listen to a few episodes of Garrison Keillor and a little bit of music.  But, most of the time we enjoyed the quiet, or we talked.  Sometimes serious topics and sometimes so silly I could hardly talk.  We didn’t have any conflicts at all.  None.  How about that.

We talked about our kids.  They are all grown up, but it seems like they are just around the corner playing hide and seek.  How did it all happen so fast?   We talk about the old people we see, and realize they are probably the same age as us.  I wonder if they still feel like kids?  I feel like I am looking at the “grown ups” sometimes when I see these “old people”.

There is a movie, “Two for the Road” starring Albert Finney and Audrey Hepburn.   In one scene, the main characters are in a restaurant.  They notice a couple sitting together quietly.  One says to the other “what kind of people sit and don’t talk to each other?”  The other says “Married People”.   It’s true.  We often are quiet, not because we are angry or have nothing to talk about, it is because we are comfortable enough that we don’t have to fill in the silence.  There is no “uncomfortable silence”.

Both of us keep saying “wow, 40 years, that went fast”.  It really did.  We got married.  We had kids.  Kids grew up.  We got old, sort of.  How did all of that happen in what seems like a week or so?

This afternoon as we were driving to our destination; Shepherdsville, Kentucky, the GPS decided to take over the show.  We only had about 12 miles to go when suddenly it said we had another 28 miles.  We followed directions; I tell Nick what the GPS says because we keep it on mute.  We went off the highway, down some suburban street, down a few more streets turning here and there and we finally ended up back on the highway going in the opposite direction.  This was after driving around Louisville on their big, fast roads.  Many of the roads are elevated and there are a lot of bridges.  I do not like elevated roads and I am not crazy about bridges either.    Roads should be on the ground, not up in the air.  It is made more stressful (to me) when I don’t know the place at all.  I have no problem driving all over the D.C. area and the Beltway.   

By the time we got here I was a wreck.   Oh well, we are here and safe and alright.  I am so glad Nick does all the driving.  He is a calm driver to my crazy navigator act.

We are back on Eastern Standard Time, so it is late.  I should finish up for now.  There’s so much more to write.   Maybe I will write more tomorrow.  Maybe after I get home.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

We're Not in Kansas Any More!

This is our last night in a hotel on this trip.  The next two nights we will be staying in cabins at KOA campgrounds.  Sunday evening we are staying in a cabin Nick found that sounds really nice.  Private and with its own hot tub.  I am not sure if we will have any online connection between now and Monday evening when we get back to Reston.

As great as this trip has been, we are both looking forward to getting home to our own home and bed and pillows etc.

We are in Jefferson City, Missouri.  The drive was not too bad today.  We could see that the weather ahead of us was not looking good, so we stopped for a quick lunch and then drove into the storm. Actually, the storm was ahead of us as I said, but we did end up driving right into it. 

Nick and I are not from this part of the country, so when we see the sky getting so dark and menacing, the first thing we think is “tornado”.    I think it is a legitimate fear.  Fortunately we only had rain.  The rain was heavy for the last 15 miles or so.  It was pouring when we got to the hotel.  We were lucky that the hotel has a covered area where we could unload the car.  

Of course, by the time Nick got the car parked the rain was letting up.  Now, Nick is taking a nap and the sun is shining.

We have been reading the book The Shipping News   every evening.  Well, Nick reads and I listen.  It is a strange story.  I like Nick to read to me in bed because it helps me unwind at the end of the day.   There is only one chapter left to our book, so we will be finishing it tonight.   I cannot wait to see how it comes out, but I don’t want it to end.  I wonder what our next book will be.  Probably something we choose after we get home.