Waking up on the couch at 3 am wearing Grandma’s pants… you’d think that would be the start to a beautiful trip, no? Not exactly. Although it was totally a highlight.
New Year’s Eve, I wake at 3:30 in the morning (in Grandma’s pants) to load up the her car and her cats and drive 1250 miles to where she winters in Florida. It’s a two day trip and I hate cats, but I’ve done it for the last fourteen years anyway. Every winter I drive down to Tampa, where I pick Grandma up from the airport, hang out in the sun and have afternoon cocktails with Grandma and the neighbors for a few days, then I fly home. In the springtime, I do that same trip, but in reverse.
That’s 35,000 miles of road over the years.
Wow, really?
Yeah, really.
And while I don’t like the cats, I do like the drive. I like the loneliness of it. I like the road and the scenery and the really good music (Thanks, Sunny!). Truth is, I just like to drive and be by myself. And I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen, never had a problem. Not so much as a ticket or a flat tire.
Which is why I was really surprised that I landed in a ditch at 68 miles per hour. Yep. ~$3,000 worth of damage to Grandma’s car.
I was able to get out of the ditch after a few hours. I was the only one of the five cars that ended up in the ditch that wasn’t totaled. So there’s that. I hobbled down the road (another 900) miles to my warm and sunny destination, dragging the back bumper behind me. I have pictures. I’m just not ready to look at them, let alone share them with the world.
But anyways, I’m fine. The cats are fine. The car will be fine. Someday.
The moral of this story is never begin a trip wearing Grandma’s pants.
Beautiful, sunny Tampa Bay.
Of course it rained the whole time I was there...
1 comment:
How are you feeling? Adam said you hurt your back. Let me know if I can do anything. Love you.
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