Well, the wind has blown us westward, caught in a polar vortex. Needing a change that no vacation would remedy, Dusty and I moved back to our old stomping grounds-ish and we have found ourselves digging a new path in the snow covered blacktops of Central Illinois, building from our life together in the 202.
This whole attempt at domestication is about to get real.
Thus far into our adventure, I've only had a handful of breakdowns, trying to adjust to the new habitat. Relocating to the Midwest in the dead of winter may not have been the most intelligent of decisions, considering I’m terrified of, oh, just about all weather conditions. And, what two weeks ago was an elevator ride down 12 stories, is now a plan to start my car 10 minutes before departure to fend off frost bite, followed by tear-filled, white knuckled drive in the snow drifted, ice encrusted, crash dummy course of roadway that leads to another 25 miles of interstate full of drivers insisting my speed is to low (I’m looking at you honking Sebring, zooming dangerously by), to run an errands. Though, I do have to say the proximity of the world’s greatest fried onion rings is a blissful perk.
In not so many words, I’m not loving the weather in which I have landed.
But, spring will come, and with it barbeques, backyards and boats. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…
|This post sponsored by the ultimate winter automobile -- |
The Toyota Snowball, errr Prius.