Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, And HOME

7:00

Lake Ray Hubbard, Eastern Dallas

It's 6:10 and we are both up.  I am sitting in the breakfast area of the Hampton Inn and just took three cups of coffee up to Evie in the room.  She will relax for a half-hour upstairs, shower, and I will be downstairs writing up the blog. Looking ahead, we probably have rain for most of the drive today.  At least it's not snow.

Loves

7:23

Yesterday, as Waze predicted, was a long drive, ten hours as we arrived just after 5:00 here in Goodlettsville, having left Dallas at 7:00.  Leaving Dallas on Interstate 30 was spectacular, the sun rising over one strip mall after another for forty miles until we arrived at the ranches and open country.  Our first goal was Texarkana, about three hours from Dallas and our first stop, for breakfast.

Next was Little Rock and an always long drive through Arkansas.  Until you drive it, you don't know how long Arkansas really is.  Getting to Memphis, crossing the Mississippi, is always a good sign because we are in Tennesee, finally, a stop for a Big Mac and four more hours to our destination. It seems to get dark early so although we arrived at 5:00, it was getting dark in Tennessee by 4:00 and we drove into the Hampton in the dark.

It felt great to just relax in our room,.have a drink and some appetizers, watch some TV, some football, whatever.  We had grand plans to go out to eat but it was so nice to stay put that I drove off to Mickey D's for the third time in the day and brought home a quarter pounder for Evie, a chicken sandwich for me and that was it for the night.  We were asleep by 9:30, tired from our drive but excited about getting back to the lake today. 

A 'great' poem from today's Writer's Almanac:

My Aunt’s Campaign to Save an Overused Word
by Catherine Abbey Hodges

When my aunt decides to stop using
the word great, I can hardly say anything else
in her presence. That was a great meal, I say.
I tell her to have a great week, exclaim
over what I call a great view. I'm forever
retracting, abashed by my sluggish mind,
the blundering tongue that betrays it,
and worried, too, about great grandmothers,
the Great Lakes, already missing great blue herons
until it occurs to me that they're her point
and that once again I've overgeneralized,
a great tendency of mine.