Observations From A Trip Up The Road

Baby and I took another road trip last week. It was just a quickie ... up one morning early and back the next afternoon. So ... of course ... I had to make some observations and what fun would observations be, unless they are shared?

Now ... this trip, I must admit, was a true test of how much Baby and I have bonded. It was a true test of how well I've learned to handle her and how well she is able to protect me. You see, this trip was taken during a flooding thunderstorm of blinding rain, ear-shattering thunder and sky-splitting lightning. Traveling down the 75 mph turnpike at a scary 35 mph, it was definitely a test of Baby's tire traction and my nerves for it was note exactly optimum traveling weather.

My plan was to begin the trip at 4 am, however the meteorologist on my television was telling me about the possible twisters in the area and the hail using my house as a drum was the size of a hen egg.

I decided it would be best to wait.

Instead, my trip began at 6 am. It probably should have waited another hour, but I was already late and antsy to get to my destination. My first clue should have been the fact that getting out of my neighborhood included going through "puddles" that completely covered the street from side to side and were actually deep enough to hide part of the curb on each side. Once out on the main streets, the going was a bit easier as long as I managed to stay on the inside lanes and away from the sides. With windshield wipers going non-stop and rain beating a staccato beat on the sunroof, I made it to the turnpike entrance.

Did I mention that the toll booth doesn't have a covering? Yes ... it's always fun to roll down a window to face the elements of wind and rain in order to throw .50 cents to the toll booth basket and pray that one of the quarters isn't blown away. I almost opted to let caution go to the wind and run it, but knew that, as sure as I did, the toll booth cameras would snap Baby's picture and list her on the "Most Wanted" board. (Although, she would look pretty up there, next to that picture of the sleek black '67 Impala ...)

After a knuckle whitening hour of pushing against the northwest wind that was slamming my Baby with it's force, hurtling rain from all sides at us, the storm finally seemed to slow down. I wasn't sure if I had gotten ahead of it or if it had passed on by. All I knew is that the sky began to lighten from black and charcoal gray to a lighter, more dull metallic gray and the wind and the rain began to taper back to a manageable gust and patter. Picking up speed, I was finally able to begin to feel more like a car and driver, instead of a fish in a row boat.

Of course, then I began to check out my surroundings ... noting the water swollen fields, the overflowing ponds and creeks, and the man who was trying to get a load of wet hay unloaded from the back of a truck in order to feed the cows that were lining up at the trough, despite the lightning in the background and the miserable cold rain that continued to pelt out of the sky.

Observation number 1:
Farmers deserve much more thanks than they are given ... more dedicated than a postman because despite the elements ... wind, rain, hail, snow, ice, heat ... the animals must be fed.

Continuing down the turnpike, feeling calmer and more relaxed, releasing the clench that I'm sure Baby had to be feeling on her steering wheel, I turned up the music on my radio and listened to the sounds of Steve Carlson, CCR, BTO, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and others as they played from my Baby's speakers. The wind had died further to occasional gusts and the rain wandered between drops and drizzle. The most difficult part now was working to stay away from the 18-wheelers as they kicked up the water, throwing a fine, and very blinding, mist up onto my windshields.

Now ... in my old car, the windshield wipers were controlled by my left hand, as they were attached to the part that operated my blinkers. Baby's windshield wipers are a bit more complex, with varying levels of delay and they are located on the right side of the steering wheel. While I've used them before, this trip gave me ample opportunity of practice in adjusting the settings that would set the wipers beating from right to left and back again regularly, swiftly or delayed, or, if I so chose, manually.

Observation number 2:
It's a fascinating way to pass the time when one finds themselves attempting to match the rhythm of the windshield wipers to the rhythm of the music coming from the speakers. Best song to work with? Dude! Asia's ... "Heat of the Moment" makes for hysterical laughter and can only be done with the manual wipers.

Observation number 3:
By this point, I might be a bit slap happy with dealing with little sleep, worry for my mom's upcoming surgery, trying to get to the hospital before they took her and driving through torrential storms and floods.

In case you hadn't figured that out yet.

With the rain finally having abated two hours after beginning the journey, my stomach told me that it required more than just the large thermos mug of tea (RoT's Earl Greyer ... really really good!), plus I needed to simply stretch for just a moment. So, I pulled off at a truck stop that I have frequented before and knew to be clean and prepared to go inside for a moment.

Observation number 4:
It's when you're pulled over and ready to get out of the car that you find you haven't completely gotten out of the path of the storm.

I literally opened the door, got out, closed the door and took a step towards the entrance of the little shop when the heavens opened up and sent forth the gale force winds and the blinding rain, shattering my hearing and sight with the subsequent thunder and lightning.

Yep ... me and Murphy's Law ... we're just THAT tight.

Making a quick stop, grabbing a bottle of water, a bag of chex mix, a bag of dark chocolate M&M's and saying a prayer that the "looked like fresh" danish really was fresh, I took the bag - after giving the clerk a raised eyebrow and glancing at the rain outside when she asked me "Paper or plastic" ... seriously ... and dashed to Baby's door, pulling it open and jumping inside as fast as possible to avoid minimum wetness both on me and in her.

Fixing up my little nest of goodies, starting her engine and heading Baby back onto the highway, I took a bite of my danish. It wasn't bad ... not completely fresh, but not bad. I thought to myself that I should have let it be zapped a moment in the microwave and of course, then, in the back of my mind, I'm hearing Dean from Supernatural's episode, "Simon Said", saying just once he'd like to eat something that didn't need to be microwaved at a mini mart.

Did I mention that I might be a bit slap happy?

Did I mention that it wasn't 10 minutes after leaving the truck stop that the rain once again slowed to a light, occasional mist?

Yeah ... not kidding ... me and Murphy ... we're that tight.

Heading on up the turnpike, breakfast, such as it was, is completed. The M&Ms are stowed in my bag for later snacking and the chex mix is open and occasionally being munched. I'm getting closer to my destination and, I'll be honest, I'm beginning to get a bit more anxious to get there. Still, conditions that they are, I keep Baby set on a cruise control of the speed limit. No need in Murphy letting the highway patrolmen have fun with me.

To occupy my mind, since it's way to early to be calling my friends and passing the time with my cell phone, I begin to let my gaze wander around the countryside. Now ... I know that they've been there ... I've traveled this road dozens of times over the last 18 years ... but it was on this trip that it simply amazed me as I realized the number of adult video shops that are located along the highway. I'm serious. Big signs advertising "XXX Videos" and "Adults Only" flashing neon in the pale gray light of morning. There aren't any other businesses. The towns are located back and away from the turnpike. These places have been opened in the abandoned buildings left from previous occupants such as Stuckeys, Nickerson Farms, etc. Those family friendly places that I remember stopping at as we traveled from Texas to Iowa and Kansas City to Minneapolis to visit family and friends during my childhood. The bright red roof or the pale blue trimming has been replaced with black and white and the rooms that held the restaurants serving homestyle food and offering tourist trinkets of t-shirts, tumblers, bells, & spoons have been replaced with ... well, I don't know and I don't want to know what the inside looks like now.

Observation number 5:
How can things be changing for the better when those places where parents felt safe to let their children roam, searching out candy and treats while they stretched their legs, have been replaced for places that are dark and advertise and cater towards the baser, primal instincts of our species?

Plus ... what the heck! These places are 24 hour and I'm here to tell you that many of them had cars and trucks parked in their lots as I passed and it was barely 8:30 in the morning!

That's. Just. WRONG.

Moving onward, I approached my destination. The rain was beginning to pick up and I was needing to pay closer attention. Keeping a close eye, I made the right exit and Baby hurtled towards the hospital where my Mom & Dad were waiting. Startled when my cell phone rang, I heard a family friend's voice telling me that they were taking my mom to surgery and wanting to know how much longer I would be. Checking the signs, I knew that I still had atleast 10 minutes to get to the hospital and then it would be a matter of the time it took to find a parking spot and get inside to the surgical area. Luckily we've been through this before and I knew in my mind exactly where I needed to go and how to get there.

Pulling into a parking spot, I gave a quick and silent thanks ... for the traveling mercies, the safety from the elements, for having Baby handle the roads like a champ ... and I ran into the hospital, stopping briefly at the door to close my umbrella and drop it into one of the handy dandy umbrella shaped plastic bags that the hospital provided at their entrance.

Arriving to the surgical waiting room, I found my family's friends but noticed the absence of my father. Finding out that he had gone with my mom to the prep area, I dumped my stuff and went to the large information desk I passed as I entered the room. Using my best "I've been delayed by the storms and I'm her daughter and she truly needs to see me before she goes" voice, I pled my case to the volunteers stationed there. Locating my mom in the computer, they glanced at each other and then back at me and one nodded to the other who rose and told me to follow her, that she would take me to see my mom.

And I did.

Despite the elements, the lack of sleep, and the slap happiness, I had made it in time to give my mom the hug and encouragement that she needed from her eldest child and, as I posted earlier, make it to the doctor's smile on the other side of the hours of waiting.

Final observation:

When it's really important, we do the things we need to do. We face the finger clenching elements and feed the cows or travel the turnpike and we do it with a rhythm that matches the music of our lives, with a giggle and a grin. Dry or wet, we take the sustenance when and where we can and we hurtle on, mindful of the past that is rich in memories, passing by the evil that surrounds us as we make our way to the ones who need us and love us.

But then ... those are just my observations on this trip. We'll see what happens next time Baby and I decide to go somewhere.

To Breathe or Not To Breathe

During a normal year, I experience difficulties with my allergies in the spring, generally beginning somewhere in March and ending in June. Then, after the heat of the summer passes, but before the chill of winter sets in, I might experience some difficulties between September and November. Since I am a confirmed "fresh air" junkie, I keep these times in mind and I am usually able to prepare and get ahead of any problems that might arise, thanks to my good doctor.

Unfortunately, 2007 was most definitely NOT a normal year weather-wise, and 2008 seems to be starting out a bit wonky as well. Evidently "allergy season" has become a year round activity. Thus it is that I cannot quite get a grip on or get ahead of those pesky problems of itchy, watery eyes, drippy nose, scratchy throat, headaches and so on and so forth.

For those that don't have allergies, I say "Bless you" and hope that you don't get them as time passes. For those that do, well ... you have my sympathy.

Yesterday, I was asked the question ... "How do you know when you have allergies?" This amused me no end as I was standing there, talking with this individual, trying desperately not to sneeze in their face and praying I had tucked a kleenex somewhere on my person. How do I respond?

On the outside, I smiled and simply told the person a few basic symptoms and advised them to contact their doctor. On the inside, however, my brain immediately began plotting a list of the ways with my inner snark set to ON.

Here's what I came up with:

10 Ways to Know You Have Allergies

1) You find yourself wishing you could pop your eyeballs in and out, like the guy in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, because they itch so badly.

2) Wearing mascara means looking like a raccoon after the first hour of watery eyes. (No, waterproof mascara doesn't work for allergy eyes, only for taking showers or swimming. Trust me on this.)

3) You frequently find yourself wishing for stock in either Kleenex or Visine.

4) You wake up in the morning with a mouth so dry that you feel like you slept with a pair of white cotton socks in your mouth.

5) Sneezing is not a one time thing. You find yourself asking people to save their responses of "Gesundheit" until you are finished - usually after 5 or 6 sneezes in a row.

6) You decide to stop wearing make-up on your nose. What's the point? It comes off on the kleenex the first time you blow your nose and re-applying simply becomes wasteful.

7) You open the washer to find your load of black pants and shirts and find you now have black pants and shirts with white polka dots because you forgot to remove a tissue you had stashed in a pocket.

8) You find yourself wishing for a way to glue your contacts to your eyeballs because they keep popping out when you rub your itchy eyes.

9) You experience "morning sickness" and have to keep a supply of crackers available, not because you're pregnant but because you have allergy drainage that makes you nauseous.

10) You realize that breathing while inside the house is a standard feature. Breathing while you are outside the house is optional.

Electric Gratitude

While I might do some wandering on the way home, taking various different routes homeward depending on stops I need to make or the mood that I am in, my drive in the morning to work is consistently the same. I'm not awake enough to deviate. During my 20 minute drive, 10 of those minutes are spent on the highway. The highway speed limit is 65 and traffic is moving. I don't speed in the morning - there's too many of those lovely unmarked patrol cars traveling the road with me.

This morning as I got onto the highway, I came upon a convoy of electric trucks - big yellow work trucks filled with men from Pike Electric Company who have come all the way from North Carolina to help get the people of Tulsa, Broken Arrow, Sand Springs and other surrounding communities back to the land of electricity and light. It was a sight to see. They were traveling a bit slower than the speed limit, so I was passing them. There were 22 trucks and still more ahead of them as I turned off on my exit. Like I said, it was truly impressive to see.

As I passed these trucks ... if the driver happened to look my direction, I found myself waving and mouthing the words "Thank You". These people, and many others from other states, have truly been a blessing, working around the clock to restore power to homes, to businesses, to schools and churches. It's been a long week for many people and there are still many who are without power.

The power of nature is truly amazing. Last year we dealt with drought in the summer, causing grass fires and 10 inches of snow in a short amount of time in the winter. This seems to be our year of rain. At the beginning of summer the rain created flooding and now, with the freezing temperatures of winter, it has created ice, causing trees to bend and snap and powerlines to pop and fail. While the roads themselves, thankfully, did not freeze and ice over, traveling has been made difficult - to put it mildly.

Streetlights and stoplights were empty and useless. Neighborhoods were quiet and still - houses in shadows of darkness. Shopping center parking lots were empty. Lines were long at the gas stations that did manage to have power. Several hospitals had to go to cancel surgeries due to having to go on back-up generators.

Yet there is light, both now and at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Our amazing police, fire, and paramedic personnel have stepped up to the challenges presented - working tiressly to care for our cities and our people. Our electric company, joined by those from surrounding states are continuing to work to bring electricity back to those without. Each day, power is being gradually restored. Stores and businesses are beginning to re-open, people have been (for the most part) polite and understand of delays. Friends and families with power and heat have been sharing with those that do/did not.

It has been a time of community. And even though it has been a time of crisis and frustration, it has also been a time to be grateful for the things that we do have.

I am grateful for family and friends who have checked on me to make certain all is well. I am thankful that each morning I wake and am able to put my feet on the floor, look in the mirror and greet the day. I appreciate the fact that I have a roof over my head, food in my pantry, and a job to make that possible.

Most of all, I commend all of the men and women who have traveled from near and far, as well as their families back home, who have responded during this holiday season and come to the aid of so many people in the dark.

This Broken Arrow resident truly appreciates it.

A Morning in October

October is one of those months that I have always enjoyed. The air in the morning is always crisp and cool. When the days are filled with sunshine, then the sky is a magnificent color of blue - the shocking kind that makes the white clouds scattering across it even more white. When the days are rainy, they are dark and gray and gloomy. Instead of freshening up everything and cleaning, the rain and wind brings down more of the rust and orange and yellow and red leaves, littering the ground with them so that when the sun comes out once more and dries they they are free to blow and whisk around in the air.

Today brought a sunshine filled morning ... as I stood in my kitchen window waiting for my water to boil and my tea to steep (blueberry this morning - which is wonderful with a slice of blueberry crumble bread spread with a thin layer of cream cheese - yum!) I enjoyed the slight chill of my kitchen due to the windows being left open during the night. The air was fresh. The sky was once again that blue that simply can't be captured by film or color. The sun was bright, casting it's shiny rays around my kitchen and sparkling off of the glass pumpkin resting on the countertop. I could hear the Oklahoma wind "sweeping across the plain" rustling the leaves in the trees and blowing them into little mini tunnels of colors.

October is here and fall is truly begun. One of my favorite days is just around the corner, but more on that later. Right now it's simply time to drink my tea, eat my toast and enjoy the morning.

Won't you join me?

It's Raining on Supernatural Thursday

All hell is fixing to break loose.

I woke up in a Supernatural mood this morning. It's a rainy, dreary morning. The kind of rain that just keeps coming and coming and coming. It made me think of the rain that seemed to be so present in the episode, All Hell Breaks Loose, Pt. 1. The scene at the diner, the scene with Dean & Bobby, and even though it didn't rain on Sam while he was trapped in the demon ghost town of Coldwater Creek, the sky seemed to always look like it was ready to drizzle a good one.


So, as I sit and watch the drizzle of liquid escaping the sky, my thoughts are on Dean and Sam Winchester and what they will encounter in tonight's episode. I don't want to watch it. I'll be honest ... since I watched and posted my TVG blog about this episode ... I haven't watched it. I couldn't. These last three episodes rend my heart for the emotions that are packed inside are incredible. The highs, the lows and everything in between.



I keep telling myself that I don't need to watch tonight. It's not like I don't have it on video tape and iTunes. I could simply wait until next week and watch both parts back to back (cause there would be no end to the heartache doing that, now, would there?) and be done with it. I could wait and watch it on my new Season 2 dvd set that I will be getting next Tuesday and perhaps if I listen to the commentary as I watch it, it won't take my heart, raise it through my throat, choking all air from going out or coming in, then for extra measure throw that heart of mine and stomp upon it with hard workman's boots. Perhaps the commentary will keep me detached.



Everyone who knows me and honestly believes that ... please come on over ... I have some newly developed swampland in Arizona to sell to you.



You know I will be watching tonight. My mind will scream no as my hand reaches for the remote. It's inevitable for the Supernatural Obsessive. I'll tell you something else. I won't be wandering the room or working on something else. I'll be perched, right there on the couch, watching, being sucked in, knowing in that spot in the back of my head what is coming and still being unable to not gasp and freak when it occurs.



Now if you will please excuse me. If I'm going to have this type of obsessive thought process this morning then I'm going to do the only sensible thing I can do. Instead of standing at the window looking out at the drizzle, I'm going to go stand in it. If Jensen can do such an outstanding job of acting in the stuff, I can go certainly take my obsession and go outside and just stand in the stuff.

Oh What a Beautiful Morning ...

Ahhh! What a wonderful morning! I woke this morning to the smell of freshly baked bread, thanks to my good buddy "The Breadmaker". I stood in my kitchen, waiting for my water to heat to make my morning cup of tea, and basked in the radiant sunshine bursting from a gorgeous blue sky as it streamed in my kitchen window. My girlies were still sleeping, so I had my Saturday morning of peace to enjoy.

I spread a slice of my freshly baked bread, added butter and my favorite "homemade by Mom" strawberry jam on top. Taking my freshly brewed pot of tea and my slice of warm fresh bread to my computer to catch up on some correspondence, I laughed to myself as the words from the song "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma! came unbidden into my brain.

Wanting to enjoy the view outside once more before beginning my day, I open the curtain next to my computer and peer out to my backyard. Just as the verse of the song "the corn is as high as an elephant's eye" bursts through my brain, I view what we call the "cornstalk weeds" growing in my backyard.

Anyone have an elephant I can measure these with? Cause I gotta feeling they're taller than an elephant's eye. Great!

A Cool Imagination

I tend to get bored driving back and forth to work each day. It's been the same trek for 8+ years. So I like to mix it up. Some days all I can think is to get home ... NOW. Those days are highway. Some days I have errands and those days I travel the roads to take me by my sidetrip destinations. And some days, like today, I am so exhausted from work that I want to get home, but the highway is jammed by a wreck and I end up wandering. I would rather keep making side street turns and keep moving, rather than stop for lights or traffic. It's as though I know that I am so beat that if I stop, I will end up dozing and drooling on the steering wheel. Not only is this not safe ... it's also not sanitary or attractive.

However, that is not the point of this little thought process. The point of this thought is the number of times I was told the temperature, as I made my way home. This summer it seems that more and more businesses are making it their ... well ... business, to let us know what the temperature is outside. I'm not sure why. Am I more prone to do my banking where they tell me not only the time but the temperature outside? Because of noticing the new electronic flashing sign telling me the temperature, will I be purchasing a new pool from a particular company? Getting a load of dirt? Eating a meal? What was once though of as a convenience, now becomes rather laughable.

In the space of one mile yesterday, I literally passed 5 signs telling me the temperature. Only two were the same. Since they were all in the triple digits, I didn't really care. All they really needed to do was put the words "It's Hot" and flash them and I would get the point.

Today was no exception. In my tired wanderings I found sign after sign telling me it was 100+ degrees. That is, until I came to this sign located at the side of the road. It was advertising a local store. It's sign read 78 degrees. I knew I was really tired, so I did a double take. Yep ... there it read, bold as brass in it's flashing red neon letters ... 78 degrees.

So, I did the only thing that seemed right. I pulled into the parking lot, parked right next to the sign and enjoyed the pocket of cool air.

Have I mentioned I have a powerful imagination?

I Control the Weather

Bet you were unaware that I am the one in control of the weather. I didn't know this either, until I was asked, not once, not twice, not three times ... try 17 times in the course of one day ... why had I decided to make it so hot today.

Now. If I could just control my patience.