I hate traveling. I love to visit new places and old ones, explore new surroundings, smell different air. But I HATE traveling – the act of getting from point A to point B.
On Friday, my parents, my husband, my dog and my baby will squeeze into my suddenly seeming-very-small SUV and travel 600 some miles away to my grandparents, Boyd and Phoebe in Northwest Ohio farm country.
My grandpa is 96 as of April, my grandmother 90 as of July. Grandpa is in a nursing home due to the small but insurmountable sorrow that he got old, couldn’t walk well, fell and broke something and they supposedly were only going to keep him long enough to get him walking again. Ha. We all know “they” in nursing homes tend to be full of crap. Anyway, he hates it because he’s still got his head and just lacks his legs – well, they’re there in body, just not in spirit.
My grandma spends her days at home watching TV, eating chocolate and visiting my grandpa. She is quite lonely but there are lots of relatives and friends and distant cousins thirty times removed who visit her often. She paints china, a lost and dying art that I am actually good at and will pick up soon as she is giving me a small kiln that she never uses so I can doodle with some small projects, vs. the bigger ones she does like vases and such.
Anyway, we are leaving on Friday and will get there probably around midnight based on the time we will probably leave and the many stops we’ll have to make to ensure that everyone arrives with full mobile capacity and all their toes. Oh and there will be a hungry baby every two hours approximately and a dog that will need to be walked…..
Oh boy. This is going to be an adventure to say the least….. I shall chronicle it upon return.






