Home Again

The last two days have not been the best for my mental and physical health despite the Beckster and some lovely South Carolinian medical personnel taking care of me.

Tuesday morning, I woke up at 3AM with a UTI. I get them when I'm super-stressed. It doesn't matter if the stress is bad or good. Yeah, I know those are relative terms. But the last time I had a UTI was the day after my father-in-law's funeral. And I was having fun on my Tour of the Carolinas until everything caught up with me on the last full day in the South.

As I said above, the ladies at the urgent care clinic I went to were absolute dolls. I got in and taken care of. The PA assigned to me checked in regularly, especially when they discovered the testing machine had malfunctioned. They got a machine from another facility lickity-split because they couldn't prescribe antibiotics without confirmation.

While I waited for the prescriptions to be filled, I grabbed breakfast and gassed up the car. By the time I headed back to Becky's, less than two hours had passed.

Despite my plans to write and the antibiotics kicking in, I still felt like crap, so I took a good three-hour nap and a shower before she got home from her spin class. I had to skip the evening's martinis, but we got take-out from a delightful little family own restaurant.

On Wednesday morning, I woke feeling reasonable better. The drive from from Columbia, SC, to Northwest Ohio would only take nine hours, depending on the number of pit stops I made. Most of it is a straight shot up I-77.

Or it should have been.

A tractor-trailer crash brought down power lines across the interstate near Exit 124. I-77 was backed up for miles in both directions. The alternate routes were also backed up. You can't take three lanes of interstate traffic down to a couple of two-lane roads and not have delays.

Or in this case, a four-hour delay.

I didn't get home until after 11PM.

Just ahead of a major thunderstorm system that peeled shingles off the roof of our shed, overturned the decorative cistern next to our patio, and knocked over several neighbors trees. The official weather report says we had a 70 mph straight-line gust, but a neighbor and I speculated we may have had an F0 pass through from the sounds and the amount of damage.

But I'm home now. Two puppies are very pleased to have extra pets and cuddles again. And DH is happy that he no longer has to eat his own cooking!

Last Stop of My Carolina Tour

I'm currently in Columbia, South Carolina, the last stop of my two week trip. My friend Becky is currently running errands, and I'm ensconced at her dining room table. Yes! I'm actually working!

But then the Beckster doesn't feel the need to drag me around her latest landing place. She had frozen pizza in the oven and a martini waiting for me when I arrived. We're getting Greek take-out tonight for dinner. There's just some friends who get you, and they are a royal treasure beyond measure.

Wednesday, I head home, but I think the break to visit family and friends has done me a world of good.

Snow and Danger in March

Yep, it's Friday afternoon and it's snowing as I type this post. I can't really blame this on climate change. It's not unusual for the Midwest to get snow into March and April. However, these aren't flakes, but clumps, which usually means the falling snow won't last long.

The danger part is unusual. I'll be heading down to West Virginia to check on my cousin at the end of the month. From there, I'll drive down to DC to see my sister, then spend a week in North Carolina visiting friends.

That's where it gets weird. Nearly every friend has extolled me to be super careful driving through NC. They worry about me driving through the state as a woman alone.

I've done countless roadtrips by my lonesome. I've been to NC by myself before, and never worried.

But this time? Yeah, I'm taking their warnings seriously.

It's nothing personally against NC.  It's because of my last trip back in October to see my cousin.

Depending on the route I take, I drive through small sections of Pennsylvania and Maryland in addition to Ohio and WV. In October, I had just passed through Delaware, Ohio, on my way home. But that time I was driving GK's Challenger because my car was in the shop for repairs (I had been sideswiped by a teenager in town).

Anyway, a couple of guys in a pickup swerved into my lane. No biggie, right? Except they tried to run me off the road two more times. I looked over, and the men were laughing. At me. And the sun was setting.

There's a long stretch of fairly straight road before we reached the U.S. 30 interchange. No one else was around us except for some traffic a mile behind us. The pickup started to swerve again. So, I punched the accelerator.

Now, I'm usually very careful about my speed between Delaware and home because Ohio state troopers patrol pretty heavily along this highway.

I could hear the pickup's engine above the growl of the Challenger. These guys were actually trying to chase me. Any ticket would be worth getting away from these jerks.

Except the chase lasted less than 30 seconds. A horrendous noise came from the pickup. If you've ever heard an engine throw a rod, you know what I'm talking about.

I kept going, glancing in my rearview mirror until they were out of sight. Only then did I feel safe enough to slow down. I look at the speedometer. I was going well over a hundred. I took my foot off the accelerator until I reached the speed limit.

I'm thankful I was okay. I'm thankful no one else was on that stretch of highway who might have been hurt. And I believe karma stepped in that night.

So, yeah, it's not just the people in NC I need to watch out for. I honestly don't get why people get their kicks from terrorizing, or attempting to terrorize total strangers.

However, DH installed a dashcam on my car in case I run into more careless or crazy drivers. The video is automatically sent to DH's phone, so no matter what happens, he'll know about it.

Cameras are everywhere these days, kids. You can't get away with stuff anymore unless you're a billionaire asshole.

Another Roadtrip Photo

On the road trip from Boise to Rockaway Beach, Oregon, we stopped to fill up the gas tank and grab some cold drinks. (We'd gone through all the caffeinated beverages in the Suburban's mini-fridge. It was going to be a 100+ degree day in Boise when we left.)

This was my best shot of Mt. Hood. The smaller mountain to the right is the remnants of Mt. St. Helens.

I'd studied the eruption of St. Helens while writing Resurrected. That's the book where I blew up Mt. Rainier and turned it into a crater lake due to a god fight.

However, seeing St. Helens in person was a little unnerving. I asked my companions how they felt living so close to an active volcano. It didn't seem to bother them, but then, they hadn't written a novel about the effects of a major eruption and the desperate attempts of the supernaturals to save the Normals who weren't able to evacuate. Not to mention, my main character's moral dilemma from her involvement in the natural disaster.

And as I snapped several shots, I could see in my mind's eye the initial column of smoke and dust rising into the air from the 1980 eruption. Both Idaho and Oregon have beautiful scenery, but I'd probably think twice before I moved there in real life.

Look Out! Scary Weekend Ahead!

I avoid Black Friday like the plague.

It didn't used to be that way. In high school and college, my sister and I would pick up our maternal grandmother and hit the early sales. By early, it meant K-mart opened at 8 a.m. We'd hit a few other stores for some odds and ends. We ended the morning at Bob Evans for breakfast.

Now, you're lucky if someone doesn't pull a gun on you while you camp out in front of some store or customers don't trample you to death while you're trying to unlock your employer's main doors.

Unfortunately, Black Friday is not the only "crazy people" day in our part of the country.

But we need to make the trek up to Detroit to deliver my father-in-law's car to a buyer. (He's nearly ninety and voluntarily stopped driving for which we are profoundly grateful.)

Darling Husband suggested instead of taking the car up on Friday, why don't we do it on Saturday?

I just stared at him.

"What's wrong with Saturday?"

"Ohio State and Michigan."

"Oh, shit," he muttered. Along with a few other words I don't feel comfortable repeating in public.

And I'm the one with the potty mouth.

You see, our little town is on the route that a large number of folks from Columbus, Ohio, and Ann Arbor, Michigan, take to each other's stadiums. Since Michigan is hosting the game, we'd be sharing the road north for a good chunk of the way with pumped up, and possibly drunk, Buckeyes fans.

So, despite my Black Friday fears, and if you're reading this on Friday morning, we're heading up north to deliver the car.

I just wish I knew where my Michigan University sweatshirt is.

On the Road Again

If you're reading this on Friday, we're driving through Texas. And I can guarantee this is on my travel playlist. DH and GK learned years ago to just let my play it at the beginning of any roadtrip.

Else I'lll sing it at the top of my lungs.

And I'm the first to admit I can't sing.

Home at Last!

Mission accomplished! GK has his Charger, and we've returned home intact.

I have to admit driving a silver Dodge Charger on the freeway is a blast. Many law enforcement agencies in the U.S. use them. It was hysterically funny watching people about to pass us panic and slam on the brakes.

If it weren't for the damn pandemic, I would have wanted to spend a lot more time in Memphis. Or even stopped at the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky, which we normally do if only to pick up t-shirts to add to our collection. But the full parking lot dissuaded us from stopping.

So we arrived at home. Other than dropping off the rental car, picking up Bella from the kennel, and grabbing a few groceries from the store, we plan to hunker down for the next two weeks.

Or I do. DH is going to the first high school soccer game of the season tonight. He's already been on the phone with the district's athletic director. It'll be just DH and the announcer in the booth with masks and sitting six feet apart.

While he's gone, I'll see about getting writing done.  And give lots of attention to the furball who's been stuck to my legs for the last twenty-four hours.

Coronavirus Pandemic Day 159 - There's No Escaping

We took Genius Kid's car to him over the weekend. He's about to change duty stations.

Originally, he was supposed to have leave in between assignments. He planned to fly home and take his car with him to his next assignment. But with the pandemic, no one's allowed off base.

So we drove his car down to Texas with the plan to meet him at the base's visitor center. Guests are not allowed on base right now either. And to top everything off, the night we got to our hotel, we found out GK's sergeant had been exposed to COVID-19, and he may have inadvertently exposed the entire platoon. They were awaiting word on the sergeant's test results.

Then, there was our very careful 1300-mile trip. I had a reusable Halloween grocery bag full of paper towels, tissues, antiseptic wipes, disposable latex gloves, cloth masks, disposable masks, a giant bottle of hand sanitizer, and Ziploc bags for safe disposal of all of the above. And we used everything.

We took meat, cheese and drinks in a cooler for the first day along with granola bars, bananas, nuts, and buns in a Wonder Woman reusable bag. Our couple of stops for gas and a bathroom break were at Pilot Truck Stops along the way. I swear they had the cleanest bathrooms I'd ever seen.

Everyone at our hotels in Memphis and San Angelo took safety precautions seriously, including providing masks and hand sanitizer for guests.

We saw GK for about three minutes, only because his sergeant's test had come back negative that morning, and GK's doesn't face a two-week quarantine. The heart-breaking part is we couldn't do more than first-bump. This may be the last we see him for a couple of years.

This fucking virus sucks, but we all did what we had to in order to prevent exposure. But to play it safe, DH and I are quarantining ourselves for the next two weeks and keeping our fingers crossed. I can't bitch too much. I have books to finish.

Road Trip Adventures, Part 2

When we left off, DH and I were sleeping in our ice-covered car in the convenience store parking lot at the exit for Stratton, Colorado, off of I-70. Well, us, six other passenger vehicles, and approximately three dozen semi trucks. Plus another dozen tractor-trailers parked along the road berm.

The environmental temperature of our sleep area has been an ongoing battle between DH and me for nearly twenty-six years. I definitely prefer a warmer sleeping environment than he does. Add in the fact that I simply can't sleep if my feet are cold, and well, the heater war was on!

My cold feet would wake me up, and I would turn on our car's engine and fall back asleep. DH would wake up sweating and turn it off. We went back and forth the entire night.

I have to say if you're stuck sleeping in a car all night, you could do worse than a Hyundai Sonata. Even DH, who nearly six and a half feet tall could stretch out.

When I woke up about three a.m. local time, fog had rolled in, I couldn't see anything past the parking lot, but the ice on the windows was dripping. As I settled back down, I knew we'd be able to get on the road soon.

DH woke up when the convenience store lights flicked on at 5:30 a.m. We, along with the rest of the sleeping travelers, used the restroom, bought some caffeine, and filled our fuel tanks before heading out. Predawn light was very welcome at that point. And even better, my joints weren't locked with pain. Yay, CBD gummies!

A few miles up the freeway, we passed the reason the fire truck and one of the ambulances were dispatched the night before. Another eastbound semi had slid into the median and caught fire. The cab and engine compartment were nothing but burned out husks.

At that point, DH and I were both thankful we'd pulled over for the night.

On the plus side, DH got to enjoy the grandeur of approaching the Rockies shortly after dawn. Without a cloud in the sky, the snow-capped mountain tops gleamed.

Denver rush-hour traffic did not gleam. However, we made to the hotel at 9:00 a.m. The Hilton Garden Inn at Union Station gets a five-star rating from me for having a room ready for us. (DH had called them the night before and told them about the ice storm. The person at the front desk said a room would be ready when we arrived, but we'd been screwed over by hotels before so we weren't holding our breath.)

Unfortunately, DH's boss was already sitting at a work station in the lobby, so he had to go back down as soon we hauled the luggage to our room. Don't worry. He was able to get a shower when the team broke for lunch. I'd gotten one as soon as we arrived. I also located the nearest Starbucks (inside the grocery store directly across the street from the hotel) and crack open my laptop.

The rest of the week went smoothly. DH's co-workers started heading out Saturday afternoon, but we stayed an extra night. Vacation, remember?

We left fairly early on Sunday morning because more freezing rain was actually forecasted for eastern Colorado and western Kansas. The trip back through Colorado, Kansas, and Missouri were uneventful. However, another storm was rolling down from Canada for Monday. It wasn't supposed to go any further south than Lima, Ohio, by 6 p.m. EST.

No problem, right? It's seven hours from our friends' house to our apartment. As long as we were on the road before noon, we'd be fine.

WRONG! DH woke me up shortly before 9 a.m. It was already sleeting in St. Louis. I was dressed, and we had the luggage packed and loaded before 9:30. Hugs were shared, and we set out to get gas and breakfast on the way out of town.

The gas station was less than five minutes from Becky's place. By then, the sleet had turned to snow.

Many kudos to the Illinois and Indiana DOTs! They kept the roads salted and cleared as we made our way east. The trouble hit when we left I-70 for I-75.

The snow had come farther south, earlier and deeper than predicted. Traffic gradually slowed to a crawl as night fell and snow fell thicker. DH followed a Penske semi with an obviously experienced driver. The numerous ODOT trucks simply couldn't keep up with the precipitation.

We could see the marks where a plow had been through less than an hour before, but the freeway was already covered in snow. Three of the vehicles that sped by us ended up in the ditch or the median. We lost count of how many other accidents we saw, including one involving an ODOT truck and a pickup with a trailer hauling horses. I hope all of the critters were okay.

Finally, we reached our exit. The county and township plows hadn't been through, but we kept the same slow, steady pace and made it home.

The storm extended all the way south into Knoxville, Tennessee. Our town topped off with four and a half inches of snow, but our stupid superintendent refused to cancel school. But hey, this is the same idiot who didn't salt the high school sidewalks after an ice storm when GK was a sophomore.

So that was our quasi-vacation adventures. On the plus-side, I got lots of good info on the city of Denver itself, especially the old industrial section they're renovating and turning into multi-use structures. I got to visit Mile High Comics to get some reference materials for the 888-555-HERO series. And I got to try marijuana, or at least a derivative, for the first time. Despite the scary travel conditions, it was a productive business trip.

Road Trip Adventures, Part 1

Some time ago, DH and I planned to a trip to St. Louis to see friends and family. In the midst of getting everything ready, we learned Genius Kid wasn't getting leave after all. Such is the ways of military life.

Also in the middle of everything, DH's division was sold to another company. The new employer, based in Denver, wanted to have a company-wide face-to-face event.

The same week we were supposed to be in St. Louis.

DH and I looked at each other, then at the map. What if we went to St. Louis on Tuesday like we planned and simply drove out to Denver on Wednesday in time for the company-wide meeting on Thursday?

For those of you wondering why we didn't just fly, DH doesn't get on airplanes any more. He freely admits to his phobia. The last time he got on a plane was for his grandmother's funeral in 2002, but that was only because he couldn't make the drive from Houston to Toledo in time.

The new employer coughed up the money for everyone to stay at a downtown hotel, which was awesome foresight on whoever organized the event. It was essentially neutral territory for old and new employees to get a feel for each other.

The new employer also didn't have a problem with me tagging along since we were supposed to be on vacation. Denver turned into a work/research trip. I wrote on my NaNo project and did some research for Denver as the setting for a duology under the Alter Ego name.

Everything started off okay on Tuesday. We stopped to vote, picked up breakfast, and dropped off Bella at the doggie hotel on our way out of town. Other than road construction in Indiana and an accident in St. Louis itself, we made decent time. We had a lovely dinner at an Italian restaurant with our friends Becky and Tony and caught up with them.

Wednesday started as a gorgeous day, sunny and clear. Temperatures climbed into the high 60's as we crossed Missouri and the first half of Kansas. No sign of inclement weather on our path west according to the radar and news reports. We stopped for a decent lunch because we knew we wouldn't get into Denver until 11 p.m. local time.

After dark, the temps plummeted into the 30's. The real problems started about twenty miles before we reached the Colorado border. Spritz hit the windshield. When DH flipped the windshield wipers, the moisture smeared and stayed.

"Please tell me that's road mud and bug guts," I pleaded.

"It's not," DH said.

We cranked up the heat on the defrosters. I checked local weather while DH slowed his speed in the freezing rain. Nothing was showing up on the radar until we reached the border. A little splotch of pink showed up on the radar right in the middle of our path on the interstate. We decided to go on to see if we could get out of it.

Conditions disintegrated fast. DH followed a semi. The experienced truckers know what they're doing. Speed dropped some more until we were all crawling along about 30 miles per hour. Then we and the semi in front of us started sliding all over the place.

This was about 9 p.m.CST. We were nowhere near any hotels. We followed the semi to an exit and pulled into the same convenience store at a little burg called Stratton. The store had a massive parking lot, and there were already a dozen tractor-trailers parked there.

We went inside to use the restroom and get some snacks. More and more travelers pulled into the lot.

As DH and I debated what to do, a man named Tim asked where we were headed. When we said Denver, he shook his head. He worked for CDOT and had been called into work three hours early. "You're not going to make it to Denver tonight."

The story was the same for all the locals who came in. The damn freezing rain came out of nowhere, and the roads were covered with black ice. DH checked for local hotels, but the closest ones were sixty miles away and filling up fast.

The husband of one of the clerks also worked for CDOT. She texted him about the travelers pulling over. He called her and said everything had gone to shit. He was having difficulty staying on the interstate himself as he salted.

That was the deciding factor for a lot of us. We would sleep in our vehicles and wait for morning. The clerks made sure everyone had a chance to use the rest room and had enough fuel to last us through the night before they closed up at 10 p.m.

I bought a fleece hoodie because I didn't feel like rooting around our luggage in the freezing rain for something warmer. I also bought some CBD gummies with melatonin in the hopes they would help me sleep.

DH and I sat in our car. The parking lot was on enough of a rise we could see east side of I-70. More truckers pulled into the parking lot over the next hour. When it filled, the truckers lined up along the median to wait out the weather.

A fire truck and an ambulance from Stratton headed west. Another ambulance headed east. Our hearts stopped for an instant when the eastbound ambulance slid on ice, but the driver regained control. Once his flashing lights disappeared, there was no one, and I mean no one, on the interstate.

DH ran our engine for five minutes while we adjusted our seats. With my overshirt as a pillow, my jacket as a blanket, and the hoodie's pocket to keep my hands warm, I was fairly comfortable. DH turned off the engine, and we fell asleep in our very own ice cave.

TO BE CONTINUED...

On the Road Again

If you're reading this on Monday, DH and I are on our way home from Denver, Colorado.

DH took last week off, and we were headed to St. Louis. However, DH's employer sold his division to another company. The new employers wanted to throw a big welcome party (which is kind of nice) so everyone could get to know each other. To top it off, they were flying everyone to Denver.

Well, we were already roughly half-way there. Not to mention, DH no longer does planes. At least, not without sleeping pills. As I told the flight attendant on our honeymoon, "Trust me. You want him drugged."

So we drove the rest of the way to Denver for DH's meeting and I used it as a research trip for one of Alter Ego's books. However, copious notes for the new book aside, I probably holed up in the hotel room or the nearby Starbucks for a good chunk of the stay to work on my NaNo project.

The real question is how much pain I'll be when we get home. Let's keep our fingers crossed that I'm as healthy as I think I am.

On the Road Again

I love road trips when they're for fun reasons. The adventure of seeing new places. Trying out new restaurants. Marveling how similar and yet how different areas of the United States are.

But over 5,000 miles in less than a month when I'm still sore from getting the house on the market and a bad cold on top of that? Definitely not as fun.

If you're reading this on the day it posts, I should be somewhere between Houston and Memphis. Memphis, being the rough halfway point between Houston and Toledo. As DH comments every time we make the drive, it's the most boring leg of interstate on the trip.

And before any Arkansas and East Texas folks get their panties in a wad, DH is not into logging, camping, fishing or country music. Which, let's face it, is all there is between the mighty Mississippi and the Gulf Coast.

And if y'all feel the need to bitch, I'll include your crystal meth production in my list. At least the rednecks where I grew up produce something a little more beneficial like pot.

Anyway, my convertible has a new heart (engine), new brakes, new tires, and she's purring again. I'm so very glad not to be in a mini-van anymore. Before anyone gets their dander up about THAT, (1) I've been driving either my Saturn or the convertible for the last twenty-three years, and (2) I tend to forget that a mini-van has a higher center of gravity and can't take turns as fast or as sharp as a sports car. So far I haven't had any mishaps. (*knocking on wood*)

So I've got my CDs (my baby's a '98, i.e. before MP3 connections became standard) and my trail mix (Archer Farms Cashew, Cranberry & Almond--best stuff evah!), and I'm on the road. Can't wait to be writing and cooking our new place!

I just need to remember to slow down through the tiny burgs along U.S. 59. I don't need Officer Bailey pulling me over for speeding for the second time in a week.

(*sigh* Yes, I broke my ten year, seven month record for no tickets.)