Wow, are you ever amazed by how quickly time flies? When last I wrote, I was in Ireland and would return to the states the next week. After a heartbreaking departure from my daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter, I flew back to Denver, picked up my car and pups the next day, and thought, “What am I doing here? My son is too busy to see me, my nieces and nephew are busy with their own lives. Maybe we should hit the road again and see my mom in Florida.”
I talked to my mom, and she said it would be okay. Sign. I texted my friend in Georgia asking if she’d be open to a visit. Just as I hit send, a text from her appeared. Sign. We hadn’t been in touch for a month. At breakfast in the hotel that morning, a server told a man, “You should definitely stop at Patti’s in western Kentucky.” I looked it up. I like western Kentucky. Sign. The weather outside was beginning to change. Snow was coming. I packed up, checked out early, and hit the road.
I decided to take the southern route since the snow would move along the plains. Also, it gave me a chance to see my sister in Dallas. I made it as far as Amarillo that night, because of the last-minute, late start. Dallas was still five and a half hours away, and my sister had an eleven o’clock appointment. I had forgetten how big Texas is, but it is HUGE! Thank goodness for the jet lag because I awoke at three-thirty, roused the pups, packed up, and shipped out. I queued Amarillo By Morning on my playlist, even though it was far from sunrise.
The stop in Dallas turned out to be very short but worth it. My sister looked great, the pups romped in the backyard, and the coffee and bathroom were welcomed.
On the road again, the route took me through Louisiana and Mississippi, two of three states I’ve never traveled to or through. Check, check. From my vantage point, Louisiana left the impression of a giant floodplain. Mississippi was a little better with a few more trees and hills. I got a little off track and found myself wondering in Livingston, MS, and after backtracking for a bit, I entered Alabama, which is a very pretty state (at least on the way to Geogia). I made it to Savannah, Georgia early Sunday morning, had a quick visit and a short walk with my friend, and then back in the car down to Florida.
No matter the time of year or day, I-95 is hell on wheels, but it led me to Vero Beach in time for supper at six (mostly, I was ten minutes late). I booked a hotel for my time there because of the dogs. Mom hasn’t quite warmed up to them yet, and it didn’t help that when we arrived at her house the next morning with a suitcase full of dirty clothes, Rudy started barking at her as if she were the intruder.
Having Rudy and Lucy experience the beach was one of my priorities of the trip, but all the signs at the beach read “No dogs allowed,” so I took them to the dog park instead. I struck up a conversation with a guy who had a golden doodle and an Aussie doodle, who told me to take them to a couple of beaches nearby. The next morning, I did just that. Even though there was a sign, I played dumb and walked right by, and the pups were both thrilled and terrified (first photo).
The next day, my cousin’s wife and their dog showed me how easy it was to walk the dogs on the beach. On February 29, after a beach romp (second photo), we started our trek back. I wanted to avoid I-95 so I tried heading straight west, but it turned out to be a nightmare. What should have taken an hour and a half on I-95, took three hours in heavy traffic, and I found myself tired and cranky just west of Orlando.
A most beautiful man tracked me down after standing in line at a hotel to inquire about a room, only to find out they were sold out. The woman I spoke to said to try next door. By the time I wound my way around the labyrinth to the next hotel, only to find another wait to talk to someone, I decided to leave. That’s when the beautiful man found me and said there was one room left and that he could offer me a deal. It was perfect and just what we needed to commemorate the pup’s first Leap Year.
Florida is an extremely long state, and I think I chose the longest route possible, but we made it through in time for the rain we encountered in Alabama. That whole Crimson Tide is real when the rains come and the soils flow. We didn’t stay long, preferring a stop in Nashville for a short visit with a long-time friend, where Rudy found a manure pile to roll in. Double yuck because I couldn’t find a dog wash. Then onto Patti’s 1880 Settlement at the northern end of the Land Between the Lakes (which apparently has excellent crappie fishing this time of year). We didn’t have time to fish, and Patti’s was fine. We chose to venture on to Columbia, Missouri. To do that, we went through Marion, IL, where we could have stayed, or put a few more miles under our wheels. We opted for Mt. Vernon, IL. Traveling by car, tends to put me more on God’s schedule than my own.
Columbia was nice, eighty degrees F, but there’s a point in traveling when enough is enough, and you just want to get back wherever that may be. Columbia is not too far from Pittsburg, KS where I still had some things to attend to, like more research on the big coal mine. The last time I was in Pittsburg and inquired about the mine outside of Mulberry, KS, the folks suggested it might have been on the Missouri side, so I decided to take that route to Pittsburg. Later, I found out the state line actually goes through the town of Mulberry, and in fact, the mine was likely in MO, not KS. I felt much closer going through the MO side, but I was still a little south, something I hadn’t realized until I was back in Dodge City, KS. I may have another trip in me to Pittsburg.
One might wonder how I do all this driving. Don’t I get bored? I listen to audiobooks and look at the scenery. The C.J. Box series took me through most, if not all of 2022. Louise Penney’s Gamache series took me through 2023 and a little into 2024. Somewhere along this trip to Florida, I finished the Gamache series (the next one won’t come out until October), started and finished Tom Lake, by Ann Pachett, and read by Meryl Streep. That was a great read/listen.
As I searched through the list of books in my audiobook library, I found The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer. Someone must have told me about it, and I must have downloaded in 2022 or ’23. I finished it somewhere between Nashville and Pittsburg, and it too, was a good listen/read. In it, he talks about the distractions of today and then he expounds about the Sabbath and how it is part of the Ten Commandments, how God referred to it as Holy, as God’s Holy Day, a day of rest, as God rested on the seventh day. Comer explained about the walks in nature and long naps, but no electronics, no tv, or binge-watching anything, just studying God’s word and resting in His presence.
Another good book, called Flunking Sainthood by Jana Reiss, in which she explained more about the Sabbath, and how absolutely no work is to be done (which it clearly states in the Bible as well). All meals are made on Friday (Shabbat) and Sabbath to rest, literally do nothing, but rest and read God’s word. All this to say, I’ve been completely misusing the Sabbath, and it took Comer’s and Reiss’ books to make it really sink in.
Before electricity, people would sleep shortly after the sun went down and rise with the sun. After electricity, we can stay up all night if we want, filling our minds with whatever we see. In today’s world, we’re likely not getting enough sleep, which ultimately makes us stressed.
I arrived in Pittsburg late Sunday afternoon (Sunday being Christian Sabbath), found a hotel, and went to an evening Mass at the university. I returned to the hotel and I didn’t turn on the television, didn’t check my phone, and decided to intentionally observe what was left of the Sabbath. I went to bed around eight and slept soundly until five-thirty or six. The morning took on a whole new feel of expectancy, with good coffee, a good dog park, and a tour of the photo plant I’ve used for years and forgot it was located in Pittsburg.
Lord, thank you for keeping me and the pups safe through our travels. Thank you for all with whom I was in contact and/or thought of, and all that I learned along the way. May we, like they sing in Godspell “See Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, and follow Thee more nearly, day by day.”
Sasha's Camino 