It was a good drive down the coast, but I felt disconnected. Looking back, I can hardly remember driving today. I played music, even though I had a book-on-CD on the seat next to me. I didn’t stop for too many snacks. The cats didn’t howl much. I had the distinct feeling that the car was moving me. That sounds weird, but I think I mean this: Instead of riding in the car, I was very conscious that it was pushing my body forward. That make sense? Dunno. Not a lot of traffic. I got two Krispy Kreme donuts at the outset to sugar-high me up. (I have to say, I have a lot riding on White Castle hamburgers now. We got Krispy Kreme from the east, thinking they MUST be over-hyped, but heck no, they weren’t. They are as good as the legend had foretold. Now, as I plan my Spring Fling east, I’m thinking about those discrete little bite-sized hamburgers. Are they really as good as they say?)
The little mama is doing all right. She’s such a trooper. This tells you something about her: Today, while she had some time to slay, she watched the DVD of Winged Migration and loved it so much she played some of it back again. Inn’at great? I’m not going to watch it, meself. I know myself well enough to know that I’d be one of three things by the end: vastly irritated, motion-sick, or too emotionally invested in the birds’ welfare.
Thinking about the drive again.
Why do people tail-gate?
There’s absolutely no reason to EVER tail-gate. ‘Cept maybe at a football game, I suppose. Having never been to a football game, I can only imagine the fantastic tail-gate parties that must occur at such events. (Two years ago, the Raiders were playing the *Can’t Remember the Team’s Name* on one of those hotter’n’hell late autumn day. One of those days when the wind whipped everything for miles, including the coals from the hibachis left cooling while their owners were inside the stadium watching the game. Eighteen cars burned up in the parking lot. Can you imagine? The Raider Nation coming out to find their SUVs torched? It was a losing game, too, if I remember correctly….)
Rambled enough. Knitted a bunch today on what promises to be a crappy little pullover made from two strands of crappy yarn held together. I was hoping crap + crap would = fabulousness, but hell, I shoulda known better. Been a long time since I worked with anything acrylic (we’re talking Red Heart here, folks. The anti-cashmere. It’s kind of interesting in science project kind of way).
Here’s a thought I can’t get out of my head: A candy-colored Noro Lo-Tech sweat. Ooohhhhh. Off to bed with me now. G’night.
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