Author: cborsello

Jersey Girl, born on the beach.

Ordinary Wisdom

WHO NEEDS BEGINNINGS?

I am getting into continuation more & more these days. I keep finding wisdoms which, I told a friend, bring me up so short, I leave mental skid marks. I know these are trite as cracks in sidewalks to others, but maybe you can share where I am if I share these:

[from The Midnight Library by Matt Haig]

“Sometimes the only way to learn is to live.”

“Never underestimate the big importance of small things.”

“Nora had always had a problem accepting herself. She always had a sense she wasn’t enough. She imagined now, what it would be like to accept herself completely. Every mistake she had ever made. Every mark on her body. Every dream she hadn’t reached or pain she had felt. Every lust or longing she had suppressed. She imagined accepting it all. The way she accepted nature. Just another sentient animal trying its best. And in doing so, she imagined what it was like to be free.”

These thoughts appear as I imagine my life as one long, tubular existence. Passing through corridors of “getting to where I want to be” which open into ballrooms or bedrooms or dappled forest clearings. The corridors have windows where I can see where I think I want to be. Arrival is one thing. Getting there a second. Accepting & staying there yet a third. That’s how possibilities become endless. Getting these sorted in my soul is like separating a dish of cooked spaghetti into individual strands. Just pour on the sauce & enjoy the meal!

Where’s your focus today? What are you doing for yourself or others? One morning on an early walk in T or C, I helped a woman using a walker to get a package from her mailbox. I thought how great it was to get my good deed for the day out of the way early on. I don’t think I’ve gotten all my good deeds out of the way yet…tho some came on early & were accomplished without fuss. Or even anyone noticing. Hey! I look at it as a reminder for self & others. It doesn’t look like I can do it alone anytime soon. If I reach out for help, I need to be prepared, indeed eager, to help those others.

The St. Francis Serenity Prayer comes to mind. There wouldn’t be so many quotes like that, nor would these be so popular – bookmarks, signs, bumper stickers, slogan posters – if they were estranged from practice or consciousness. That recognition tweaks a smile that we already knew that! The real smile comes with its accomplishment in daily life.

Leaving off here with one more quote, this one from Fall Out Boy:

“You are what you love & not who loves you.”

And you don’t have to quote me on that.

4

The Wild Pigs of Fortune

These words, as delicate as unicorns

Seeking virgins across a flowered meadow

Become

Wild pigs of fortune

Rooting morels of richest flavor

Growing in ragged rings

Trailing under trees.

I have dined on hope & horror

That sweet & sour of life –

I choose my plate & am served,

The pickiest of eaters

No longer starved but selective.

—

There is a future of poetry quiescent in me

Until it surfaces

An inexplicable sea of languaged possibility

An electricity of words

A rumpled lightning honed in thunder:

A power of music & movement

A violin plucked in silence

As solid as any ephemeral

Ringing the drums of inner ears.

I sing as it threads from me

Pure, honied notes

Caught in a seine of glisten      

Unfolding in echoes

One word spawning a generation of new thoughts.

—

The Magnum Opus of my earth-days

Breaking forth in syllables,

A waterfall of words

Manipulative argot yanking me

This way & that

Finally bouncing off the sky

As light breaks through.

I quest the possibilities of expression

For you, panning a seine net for gold nuggets

We can spend on the future

Cooking up possibilities where

We retire from the table, patting

Full bellies,

An unexpected belch of repletion

Bringing a smile since

There is simply no room for dessert.

—

0

Quiche & Stonehenge Lamps

up at 3:30 – this time zone thing is interesting… I was sometimes an insomniac before the cat came into my life, but now I am accomplished in the single digit hours. I prefer these dark darlings before everyone else is up. I feel like I’ve got a secret which satisfies my inner child enormously. I know when the lights blink or a plane flies over & I imagine the pilot looking down on twinkling stars not in the sky.

Yesterday I stopped at Publix to buy $8 lightbulbs (ulp!) (3-way & LED but look-like-real-GE-bulbs). I know LED isn’t good for eyes but have magically spelled the lampshades to filter out all of whatever is unhealthy emanating from them. And now I can have 30 watts with my coffee instead of 100. The lamps both take 3-way speed & are made of granite. They could be stood as monuments in a field – marking 100 miles from Camden – & would be there 100 years later. To move one requires all my strength, including core & a clenched bottom. That would be to relocate it even an inch to the right to fit my glasses in a certain circumscribed place on the night table. God help me. Was I always this anal?

Anyway, Publix. My roommate adds “but they’re so expensive” every time I mention the name. Like “St. Mary’s By The Sea,” “Publix But They’re So Expensive.” Yes they are indeed. But they are ubiquitous, like churches in the Bible Belt & squeaky clean & will give  you flowers on your birthday if you give them your personal data which they can sell for far more than $10 a bunch, as well as your bank card info. Got two sweet potatoes, two bulbs, an orange pepper & a package of two quiche shells for $30. BUT the upside is it was all in one place & did not involve a u-turn.

Now the quiches are made, well, one done & one cooking. One for the Unity potluck Sunday & one for us. Loaded: pepper, onion, asparagus, tomato, cheddar, squash. I now see what G means about buying veg ahead – one squash was rotted from inside out. Felt a little soft but was mush inside. Tropical climes. For whatever reason, the cukes are staying firm so I must eat them Very Soon.

We have ghost ants. Ghost ants have black heads. Not that you’d know that since you’d need to follow them about with an electron microscope to see them at all. I see dots moving about the desk calendar, or across the computer screen. Forget about seeing them in the kitchen on a marbled granite surface. I’m not even guessing how many I’ve already consumed, but since the Deep State is pushing locust bars & cricket chips on schoolchildren (so far only in Australia, but they’re a daring bunch anyway). Klaus says we will have nothing but he’s wrong. We can have Insects for Dinner, sauteed, baked, fried. Um, let’s talk about something else.

I’m back at sea level. I am made of salt water as I find out when I sweat through everything like three times/day. Walking out to get the mail, opening the door to see if the clouds might mean it’s gotten cooler & pushing the remote to open the car locks. That’s all it takes, folks. Since I’m down to three small half-drawers of clothing after the relocation, it can be quite the challenge to find an “outfit” by Saturday. Also, since I no longer care if I wear checks & plaids together, life gets more clowny as I get to Thursday wear. I cannot commit a crime: people will remember me. “That lady with the purple & greeny tights & the black & white stripe top? Yeah, what about her?”

I have seen cactus here, but they look sad & possibly rotting from the inside out. I ordered a children’s picture book on palm trees to learn some species. The smallest number I’ve seen is 22 but the book has 32, with pictures. And I expect I will memorize these as I read it by my 50-watt setting. I do keep looking for coconuts, some dim memory of a lifetime in Hawaii, not that I’d shimmy up a 50′ smooth trunk for it when I can buy one at Sprouts, yeh?

I do love the garbage disposal! Too bad the water table in NM doesn’t permit ’em. This is one you could put car parts down & retrieve paper clips.

Spent time at the library yesterday trying to send pix to computer via phone in order to retrieve them for emails, but they did not send. Since no one calls me – like – e v e r – the phone has become a good weight to hold down my purse should there be a high wind or should I not have put the strap under one of the lamps for safekeeping. Thieves would get a hernia trying to make off with it. I did take a pic of the lamp with the computer but it is squirreled somewhere with the ghost ants.

Aaaand it’s only Friday. 

0

“When Possible, Make a U-Turn”

I’ve read that even when we are lost, maybe turned around in direction, the place we are lost in needed our energy to pass through it. I am intrigued by this as it gives a validation to dithering. My Garmin unit has fallen heavily into like with Rt 75 here – Florida’s answer to 95 in Philly or 25 in New Mexico. I have it programmed for the fastest way & although I can see where I want to go across the “freeway”, the Garmin insists on getting onto that & going one exit north or three south in order to double back. This is how it achieves the “fastest” way – must go hammer down to match the traffic to exit a mile away when my landing was across the street.

The next direction it has bonded most sincerely with titles this blog. Now I’m the queen of u-turns. How many times I’ve been on the inside lane watching my exit sign off to the right whip by…well, let’s just agree I don’t want to say. But I don’t get excited about that anymore.

In thinking this over I find I must make a “you-turn”. Now, doesn’t that sound a bit better? I look again to see if inward shapes up with outward. I breathe away the annoyance or feeling of being stupid when I do. I understand there was some reason, perhaps unfathomable in the moment, but some causative that set me [literally] off from a target.

Now I get that when this happens, when Garmin says, “in one mile, be in the right lane to take 75 South” I can bypass that, pull off onto another street & cancel the route. When I reprogram, I am readily guided more gently on the surface streets as the unit ‘repents’ (rethinks) best route. It helps if I don’t steam up or get into a lather about it. It’s as though I’m on a retractable leash & just reached the end of it where it gets interesting when “click!” the brake device locks me down. By the neck.

English is full of words beginning with ‘re’. It always means some kind of do-over. I have often walked right through the safe space, climbing out of the bomb shelter as the planes drone over, carefully edging over or under the barrier of go no farther in peril of continuing. Limitations are temporary. I will get there from here.

I can be my own hero. It’s all that is left for me to do. I have been my own example & it sure is easier without the drama of agonizing each instant of it, but keeping an eye on where I want to be & knowing no matter how fast I travel past it, I can return. Accepting that English itself is the Trickster here, I move along steadily; we go hand in hand. It’s quieter without the quibbling.

If I can do it with a laugh, I’m in the overcoming lane. If I can do it with grace, I’ve benefited the territory by not leaving a trail of frustrated syllables behind, like a smelly bus.

I can read up all I want about how it works. I can preach it from on high (or on nigh) but the sure knowledge my goal is attainable as it is for my good, is astounding.

Soon I will no longer need the directions to be recited from the tiny screen replicating the exact place I am… how many times must I get there before the sure understanding that I can broadcasts a sunrise, illuminating all? Quite a few, it seems. I say to that, “Let’s go!”

Now, as I sort through endings, I keep finding beginnings I’ve set aside among these. They are shiny, eye-catching, attention-getting. And achievable!

When possible, live your best life!

1

Before the Cat Died

PREPONDERANCE

Tisanes of my own making:

I still say coming forward for others

Is more than my own reality

The vague blur of expired lenses

Less keen than real perceptions

The radiation of my Chernobyl life

Pulsing in the machinery.

My heart decides its own measure

Diverging from the body’s hosting.

Finding that  hidden doorway,

I sit shivering in shiva for myself.

Once held so closely to my chest

Now put aside in contemplation

Of The Other.

Yet this is current reality

My clickbait body

To which I return each morning

While sliding down the ropes of immortality.

I land with a jar of bones & teeth

In the town of not-enough & nevermore

The boundaries of why bother

Tightening their borderline personalities.

Will I mist to shadow

Transmogrify to barbered edges?

Shredding & shedding humanity for the Divine

The nature at central core

Patiently emergent.

Shall I pick my way through minefields

Fraught with memory, unbounded, unleashed, unremembered?

Does it matter?

As one among many

Unmanned by the sheer topography –

Of this experiential life,

Once glossed by heaven

This blank page

Forever scribbled now

Crossed out

A mess of blots & misspellings

A dictionary of what not to do.

My mind off to the side

While heart seeks another drummer.

Of all the doorways along the

Corridor of Eternity

Of all the tiger or the lady decisions

Shall I find forgiveness only in salvation’s selection?

MOVEMENT TOWARD

The channels of perception

Sharpening

Repelling static for clarity

I fight free of the physical

For the liminal of heaven

Washed by words

Scarred by sayings

I glisten at tidal edges

Will love refashion & reconstitute

Who I shall be?

Will crass materialism win over

Incandescent immortality?

I wander fields of inquiry

When answers are only found

Along the horizon.

Like babies

Cats keep their own timelines

Pulled to the watered-silk moon

An insistence upon awakening

Shedding sleep like virgin’s tears

Of awakening to a man sleeping alongside;

To single digits on the clock

From sleep to not-sleep

A bleary coming-to

I cross & recross that boundary

Between morphia & the mangle.

Her plumed tail floats last out the door

Her existential nature of query

Draws no worry in the night

She only wants to walk about in it.

I’m hardly awake & worry catches

Me up in headlong rush

Enough! These thoughts need brighter light to think

I drift upon the couch, ticking time

In decisions.

Pain is a slowed-down travel companion

A discernment rushed into decision

A refocus upon the means to journey

Through to the promise of arrivals.

Darkness to light

The words ride a tunnel into the light.

The night

Picks its way among gardens & highways

Taking cities by storm

Bringing the brace of salt & bitters

To a candy life

Too sweet to manage alone

I reach to friends who break taffy edges

I savor them as only perceptions

Of spice to be stirred into the stew.

Broken Like Mercury

The pieces of my life forever flow

In reuniting

Yet every bubble reflective of itself

Toxic

A balm to unhealed wounds.

I put my hands into the word-soup of life

Pulling out the same-same over & over

Putting them to a picture

Moving along sure edges,

Fitted to an

Other-where of perception.

Indentured abandon

Not yet an adventure

But simply a promise

That all will be new:

That all will be well.

Finished: the Night

Apace with poems

A toe-thorned cat asleep nearby

She purrs to hear me wake

Welcomed to morning

By her expectations.

The numbers on the clock-face

Are liquids soon abandoned

For the solid day

Soon abandoned by the sun’s

Hearty sibilance for the stutter of rain

My erratic heart abandons rhythm

In errata of timing: I am asymmetrical

Wondering will it also abandon me?

I have left off the lid on fear

Once contained

I pull the braided measure

To watch it unravel.

There is none but this now

I have survived to this hour

This night

Only me speaking

One hand clapping

The applause of a universe

Knowing no appendages

But only self-regard.

Will I close one eye to eternity

Or decide to have no body

But only a wing & wonder?

Unexplored, lost joy recovered

That relay of open gates

A call to angels to attend me

A sustenance of grace attendant

To continuing on

Bodiless as a naked soul.

None to greet me in dystopian Paradise

A chair in a corner

A pen & pad

To rewrite me into another life.

Death Is An Invisibility Cloak

Life recedes behind me

A memory before a dream:

A place where God looks up from His desk

Adjusting His glasses

Laying down the Book of Life He writes

To say, “Oh, there you are!

How was it?

Again, why did I create you?

When  you passed, a thousand drums went dumb.

Come here, my girl, tell me all & that you wrote what you lived:

The banal & the miraculous…

Do you remember all the times you touched My face in passing?”

I will cross the room in laughter,

“Father! I made it! It was extraordinary!

However did You think of it all?”

I will be whispering for all eternity

Now penned in heaven

Awaiting Your words.

There Were No Clocks

As I drew my last breath

Released in a rattle: there

Was no time left to record,

Only words scattered on the floor

Of my mind.

It was all for You, after all

And I’m not sorry for the mistakes

Or falling from grace to land on my face

In the mangle of years.

Searching only for the

Exit, the entrance,

Knowing neither right nor wrong

Would enter anywhere beyond this realm

The physical of living too well

While overdressed & compliant with survival.

I bought life, spending all that I had

I hand You my purse, empty of only Love’s royal return.

(3/22/22)

0

Being Again

I have changed up my luck & my life many times, not being one to stay in place & talk while change happened all around. I’m at that lever point again where each choice takes me to a more fulfilling place.

Mark, 5:36 says “Do not fear. Only believe.” Whew! Good advice there! I’ve taken it on as a mantra & with gratitude for the “holy backup.”

I had no expectations on coming to Florida, really not knowing what I’d discover here. My new roommate did not quiz me on wants or needs to bring attention, I did not put expectations out there, except for it to be different from what I was/had/did in T or C.

These differences are astronomical. Yesterday in a meeting about literacy, we played a game based on Jeopardy & one of the questions was which state has the lowest level of literacy in U.S. I mumbled “What is New Mexico.” I was correct. Ineffably sad to me when someone cannot read or write, I am remedying this by joining the Literacy Council & training as a tutor.

I genuflected on going into the library – more of a church to me than all else. The staffers here everywhere are positive, helpful, genuine & creative. I’ve been able to afford new glasses at an optometry store – a dream of years but since last pair cost $500, seemingly far out of reach. I have a wall of books available in the Community Center here. I have a church family now to make laugh since that’s my favorite thing. And people are so ready to laugh!

Seems like pretty much everything is readily available here which was more of a rumor in T or C. All kinds of community facilities & events, long walks by water, Time & more to recreate my life & offer my unique talents to a place & an appreciative populace. For me, service is the essential of my being, as needed as all else.

For the poverty I saw across the country, the empty storefronts & sagging signs, from the fast-food-only offerings to fresh greens & meats, for lawns without rusted hot water heaters & garages full of bulging, mottled boxes, for the well-tended pets & the lack of hungry cats crowding the yards… It is an unexpected lift to my life-spirits to be in a place where it all I see is organized & tended. Of course there are still many living in their iPhones or intent only on passing the next car on the road. But these seem echoes faint & faraway to my observations. Florida is a state of mind as well as method. I anticipate establishing myself in the community & moving forward to a much higher & more loving state of knowledge, aiming for enlightenment.

My loving nature is expressed by all the writing I do. I bring to light stories about myself which will place them in the heart of a wondrous, organized universe that makes butterflies in larvae, that grows mighty sequoias from one tiny hold-in-you-hand “seed.” I live in a place where my now is for the benefit of others & the betterment of self. My stories help others achieve their goals, release their fears, understand more of what happened. All my friends & lovers are in a place of sending me joy & delight when they think of my name, my face, my voice. I return these tenfold, understanding that Love is the nature of the universe in which I dwell & have my being. I reflect & release any event or thought which does not fit into this pattern of affection, unfoldment & endorsement of my understanding of God & Divinity which showers upon me unceasingly with a blink & a wink & a blessing of smiling energy. And so it is!

My poetry Muse has gone to the nearby beach but she’ll be back. In the meantime I write prose & praise & power as I grow into this now, this new. Late in life for it all, this is, but here & now counts for far more than lottery winnings if you’re happy.

Be in love, people. If you’re not, take any train, boat, plane or scooter you can to get there. Then turn around & show everyone else the way.

Love,

Carol

4

Landings

I wonder why I lived in such a hardscrabble place as T or C now. Perhaps cuz I didn’t know it was such. It filled all needs for some time. I had forgotten (or perhaps never had access to) the option to stay anywhere else without pulling down a salary when I’d rather stay retired.

I feel I’m living that cliche, “died & gone to heaven,” though I’m still very present here.

The environs are restful on all levels: the greenery is peaceful & seductive to unused-for-years portions of my mind. The bare-bones landscape of the desert, the crunch of boots on grit, breathing dust in battering winds are all interesting & strangely beautiful. I know I can survive there well. Being here is literally moving from ground floor to the penthouse with no stairs or elevators involved.

The softness of the land is softening me too. It cushions all corners; my eyes rest & are absorbed by the verdance rather than bounced off glare.

I’m active in the same geographic square as in T or C. The places I frequent are within a couple of miles in radius to home. The bank, walking, a wild assortment of stores from “Beads!” to “Axe-Throwing” are nearby. My new Unity is about 2.5 miles & I may serve there at will. Beauty is everywhere in the neatly-ordered neighborhoods, brilliant flowers, tall palm trees, clear lawns, pastel homes… a “Wow!” which is not a loud whistle, but an under-breath sigh. So far, there have been no flaying winds of dust forced upon me.

I found it an inconvenience to drive so fast, so far & land on a holiday weekend. I was ready to continue the giddy-up, to check in immediately on practicalities of re-establishment. Now I see it was a blessing to blinker out of the fast lane & coast to the curb; a feather plucked from high winds to land trembling aground. What I perceived as restrictions have come to actually be a preparation, a kind of “Whoa, Girl! Slow this whole thing down!”

I was primed for the passing lane & now am parked, absorbing an orientation. I am taking notice of taking heart.

Of course all around still moves at speed & few obey speed limits already set up a bit from my usual, 40 from 25 mph. But streets are wide, well-marked & notably lined for expediency. Warnings & signals & ease of u-turns (always a feature for me!)

Today I slide from neutral into gear. I’ll open a bank account, maybe get to a library branch, talk with a gym about membership, contact an eye doctor. The list I’ve carefully pecked out on the phone’s memo pad is about to go live, check, check, check.

I am so grateful! My basket of blessings is filling while leaving room for so many more!

1

Arrival

Five days later, 1900 miles on car trip counter – no signs for Sarasota until 7 miles out of town.

First impressions: commercial sprawl; old trying to look new with spiffy add-ons; traffic sincere about getting to the next red light as quickly as possible. Hope my NM plate saves me some harassment. Beautiful birdsongs, many water birds about. Pastel is the State Color.

In search of: Sprouts, library, MVD info & all stuff like that. Won’t take long. Must find storage baskets for little stuff I put into boxes, like 15 bottles of essential oils, etc.

Lined up: Volunteer position at literacy council, service at Unity this Sunday.

House is spacious & full of light. Warmish for me, but I’ve been isolated in air conditioned spaces some while now. I’ll adjust. Development is lookalike homes, better know your street or have a turquoise chair out front!

Everyone has been so generous with me. My turn to offer this to others.

Thanks for following along – a short one today & no photo. Couldn’t get them all to load yesterday either.

Thank you times eleven.

Love,

C

1

Day 5 Journey Journal

I can tell Florida is a real tourist state – not just a pass-through. It’s apparent in the quality of even the less expensive places I’m staying. The Baymont last night was so solidly constructed I heard nothing & I was across from the elevator by the breezeway. The a/c unit was quiet, unlike the industrial hum of the others, the coffee excellent & plentiful in the room & the TV did not come on by itself.

Today’s unit is in a Super8 in Lake City, my last stop before Finding Georgi tomorrow! Another 300 miles to Sarasota &  my new home!

Here, my room is on a lovely courtyard with a pool & palm trees. Breakfast is at 6:30 & a free dinner is served at 5. Tonight is pork loin. Free dinner? Free dinner!! And I bet they even offer it with silverware!

I’m getting good at trundling what I want in the room atop my $5 wheelie bag which has been slowly losing pieces, a strap here, a handle there. Is this a signal to stop traveling awhile?

The trip was uneventful. The Weeble-People in buzzcars gave way to misanthropes in bus-sized SUV’s. Well, these do require their own lane plus the half-lane Sparkle occupies. They also were still twisted enough to want to sift her tailpipe emissions far too closely until we finished passing & moved over. I waited at the motel for about an hour as I was early on arrival, today being my short travel day. Turns out I was waiting for the pet room. When I told them I’d given the kitty away, I got a room immediately & a lot of sad looks & “awwww’s.” I cannot bring myself to tell strangers what happened to my Dream. Why create more heartache in the world?

I did think of trying to actually find Lake City & buy a postcard or a dolphin keychain … for about five minutes. I’d rather sip weak coffee in the Super8 lobby than go exploring. Maybe another time. I’ll have Sarasota to explore soon. This room is quite large & I’ve lived in much tinier studios in T/C. I could prob’ly get a decent Cotton-Eyed Joe going along the hall to the bath. The bedspreads & carpets in these motels are awarded to the Ugliest Possible Color Choices available on the market today. Bedspreads of olive & lime atop carpets of brown/brown, tan, beige & gray stripes being the most popular. The bathtubs are slick as goose ____ with no handholds. Cold water is tepid, the walls a cross between hospital green & hospital yellow. But they are all squeaky-clean & the towels folded to pass muster on a Marine base.

I am down to one book to read, good thing I’m almost arrived! I doubt there’s WIFI in the house where I’ll be so likely I’ll head to the library for that every once in awhile. Time to be a friend & hang out & plan days together. And I think I’ll get a flip phone instead of the android with its unreliable-to-impossible services.

I’ve passed the point of no return many miles ago. I am launched well &  truly into a new phase of my life. My friends have proven super-supportive of this exciting endeavor & I am filled with gratitude of the highest measure!

Come visit me!

Carol

2

Day 4 Journey Journal

Today I finished off Louisana (leaving spooky Lafayette far away) & crossed Mississippi & Alabama, which states could afford “Welcome!” signs. The landscape was even greener if possible & kudzu not draped over the local wildlife.

Florida. I remember Florida drivers being so slow to get behind one was a cause for loud groans from everyone in the car. Well, times have changed. The highways now harbor a coterie of low-slung, neon-color cars with black-rimmed lights whose drivers live for the thrill of doing 70 in the 40’ space between them & the next car in front.

I watched this go on from the slow lane where I was still doing the limit… gasping to almost witness three collisions today alone. The windows are tinted at about 80% & I picture Weebles driving, madly shifting gears with evil grins. Maybe they get extra tickets to turn in for plastic combs if they can run a tractor-trailer off the road. I saw more than one 73 footer shimmy like my sister Kate as these devils of derring-do slammed in front with a bandanna to polish the chrome bumpers.

A good 90% of the truckers are polite & many hang back but boy they are like bull-ring livestock when in a hurry. These also follow a creed that if they can get close enough the energy field will push the car out of the way. However, I learned to drive in New Jersey & have lived in New Mexico where every car is larger than mine plus my third mate was a trucker himself. I’m not afraid. I can be dead on the road anywhere tho not a fatalist. It would be spectacular for them to scoop up my Volt for a hood ornament & save me gas, too. And I’m doing just over the limit if in the passing lane anyway – the lane next to the staties parked in the median, yeh? I move over as soon as I can & figure they left all road manners on the counter when they picked up their CDLs. If they’re that late, they should have started as early as I did. Bleah! Road bullies all.

Today I didn’t chant in Hindi. Today I simply prayed James Dillet Freeman’s Prayer for Protection through two of the three states. The CD didn’t work well from Disc 2 on, so I finally put in Train & shouted the lyrics out loud while slapping my legs to stay awake. It worked, but I sure needed the restroom at every stop!

Florida has discovered speed! I think I preferred the grannys in surf wagons pushing pedals to see which one worked to make it go.

It’s so humid here the bathroom floor is slippery. Shuffling works. Fortunately my flipflops have traction.

I am enjoying the accents & realized today I will never fit in if it comes down to speaking twang

This motel has the first plugged-in clock I’ve seen. Perhaps it’s a state thing, but all the other places I stayed either had no clocks or had put them under the bed unplugged. Just sayin’.

One more night on the road before arrival. I had a lovely stop in Mississippi at a rest area which was lush & green (I know I keep harping on the green, please forgive.) It has been over four years since I spent time under trees!

I am not a good travel-tourist. What I want to take pics of strobes by with just a glimpse. I cannot fumble for the phone, the camera app, etc. So the photos of this trip will be just a couple at rest stops. Mississippi has the prettiest I’ve been in, today’s was a park with a pet walk area, a people walk area, nicely tiled restrooms all spacious & cool. And their vending machines were stocked & worked (tho I’m still watching for the by now twice-baked cheese crackers.) The nice thing is the food carrier gets lighter every day. I still have Biscochitos, in case you’re wondering.

Today was simply a speed day. I think I passed a point where the ground started tilting downward, things got to moving so fast. I’m not a go Granny go gal in the best of times. I have a 4-cylinder Volt carrying a decent load. I think if these drivers hit the drive-in, they’d demand the movie be on fast forward.

I am in Crestview, FL where the bathroom floor is misted in humidity & there are few handholds to grab. I’m attaching some pics of my parkland rest stop & one of me which fully features my moustache… I got a look at that one & rooted around in the back for a razor to shave. It’s hellishly colorful to be spayed down to testosterone level in a humid climate. Of course I cut my thumb.

300 more miles to go. Palm trees. Swimming pools which haven’t been used since Covid years & bearing signs “No Refunds!” I’ve got the room next to the elevator but at least not on the freeway. If there were a storm, the sidewalks would sizzle & steam. Had a cool rinse & it’s time for my Arrival Coffee since all of you are caught up on the uber-zoom situation here in the east.

Please continue your prayers for safe arrivals & loving reunions!!

Sleep well in peace as I dream of jake brakes…

Carol

A Tree
A different tree with a droid trashcan admirer
Moustache Me

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