Welcome to Billings, Montana, where I have hunkered down to avoid driving on the Interstate during one of the many reported snowstorms traveling around the US of late. If I had planned better, I would have chosen a cozier hotel to get stuck in, and I would have paid attention to where my husband stored the ice scraper in my fully packed Jeep, and I would have brought socks. And I should have planned better because Nunquam Non Paratus—Never Not Prepared—is the ancient motto of my family. I was raised under the plaid and the crest and the motto, yet here I am, sockless in Billings, Montana (not exactly sockless, but the pair I had on when I left Austin, Nevada several days ago needs a good washing, which I will give it, in the sink with my tiny bottle of shampoo. That might mean I’m a little bit prepared).
I haven’t driven much since moving to Austin over five years ago, as it is a compact town and I could walk to my part-time library job and to my beautiful historic church. Also, my guy always drives when we go “to town” to get groceries and supplies in Fallon, a mere 112 miles away. Ah, the open road!
As I mentioned in an earlier post though, Mr. P and I have sold our home in Austin and we’re moving to Michigan. Hence my solo interstate journey. Mr. P and his heroic childhood friend will be coming soon with the moving van, but they will be driving tandem (?), I guess, taking turns sleeping and driving and only stopping for gas and food. I left earlier because I am the world’s slowest driver, and I refuse to drive after dark when everything goes all fuzzy and weird, and also, I am not a morning person. So, I don’t get too far within the slow-motion window of light between say, 11 AM and 6 PM (this time of year).
It was a deeply emotional parting, my leaving Austin. There were library patron visits, homemade cards and cookies, a sumptuous church luncheon, and these amazing gifts (I’m keeping names private as I haven’t asked permission to share):
And now we’ve arrived at the Dreamy Forest Music and Afternoon Spritzers portion of the post, which is a radio station and a white wine spritzer in a plastic glass, but it is lovely, and I feel loved, and safe, and scared and excited all at the same time, because I have left a wondrous place, and I’m off to a new unknown. Wish me luck?
Thanks for the Memories! Remember Bob Hope singing that? It always moistens the eyes. We are all so lucky, you know, to have each other and love each other for as long and as well as we can.
Be well everyone, and safe! I am so grateful for your visit. Where are you, in this wild, wild, harsh and beautiful, sweet and mixed-up world? I’d love to hear about it!
LakeArrowheadLadyWriter 