Dawn Reader

Dawn Reader
from Open Door Coffee Co.; Hudson, OH; Oct. 26, 2016

Saturday, September 6, 2014

On the Road Again, 1

1. We've reached Becket, Mass., where we're staying in the old farmhouse my brothers own in the Berkshires. My mother's 95th birthday is on September 9, but we have to celebrate a little early. Otherwise, we can't all be together. It's a long drive--Hudson, Ohio, to Becket (about 560 miles), and it takes us about ten hours. We've driven it many, many times. This will be one of the great times, I hope. Mom--now in a wheelchair--will be able to go out to a restaurant with us because the assisted living place she now calls home has arranged special transportation. She hasn't been able to get out in months.

2. Joyce ate one of my granola bars today. As readers of these posts know, I'm a Creature of Habit (more than most other creatures), and at one of our regular stops (Buckhorn, PA--about halfway), I always get a couple of oat-n-honey granola bars at the gas station. Joyce opens them while I drive and hands them to me at certain intervals along the way (little rewards for reaching goals--it's childish, and I can't imagine the trip without observing the imperatives that habit issues). Anyway, she buys her own little treats, too, back at the gas station--never really the same thing (we are very different in this regard). And today--not really paying attention  as we were talking--she ate one of my bars, thinking it was one of her treats. She confessed; I behaved in a mature fashion (!!). And she gave me one of her bars (peanut), but, you know, it just wasn't the same. The rest of the way felt a little bit "off," you know?

3. Re: drivers in New York. In this state--today, anyway--I experienced far too many people making this particular maneuver: passing me, moving back into my lane, slowing down. It happened so often that it seemed almost on the level of a conspiracy of some sort (not that I'm one of those--conspiracy nuts). Still ... why did it happen so many times?  In New York only?

4. Oddly, we saw no really unusual wildlife the entire 560 miles. I have seen coyotes, wild turkeys, all sorts of cool things. Not this time. (Conspiracy?)

5. I will post tomorrow about my mom's birthday lunch. She was born on September 9, 1919, in Martinsburg, West Virginia, where her father was preaching at the time.

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