The Cold was still waiting for me when I got back home. This has been one long, cold, badass winter. Nighttime temps still in the single digits, but hope springs eternal. Unlike the ineffective sun of January, the sun of midday March shines in earnest. Snowmelt trickling icy liquid through the downspouts, the music of early spring.
Glad to be back I suppose. The walls of my tiny camper began to close in on me as I bounced from park to park moving northward. It became increasingly difficult to find weekend campsites as the warm weather brought the Panhandle locals out of their brief hibernation. One morning, as I sat in a crappy, Mississippi asphalt lot, prepared to wait out a couple more weeks, it occurred to me that I may as well return to my beloved Jerkwater, and wait it out there. It was a relatively quick drive up I-65, running the southern Indiana I-65 gauntlet without incident this time in cool, but sunny weather.
So, here I am back to the daily grind, but fortunate to have screwed off for a few weeks.
Well Herm, at least this time round we were able to revel in the delights of the southbound soiree rather than sit transfixed with sympathy and dread at the diabolically saturating sojourn that was last year . . . I'm sure Jerkwater will embrace the return of it's one true bard and historian . . . break out the Nyquil man.
ReplyDeleteWelcome back to Indiana. I hope to maybe run into you somewhere and chat.
ReplyDeleteSurly - from 46385
That kitchen is definitely not getting a "Good Housekeeping" approval.
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