It’s Day Two of National Parenting Gifted Children week, so don’t forget to go around and check out some of the other writers participating in the blog tour. I’d link ’em up for you, but I’m somewhere on Interstate 80 in the middle of Nebraska (state motto: Land of Red Trucks, Don’t Ask For a Different Color). Just check out yesterday’s post for details and links.
Ah yes, the road trip. Just like our pioneer ancestors…but with GPS, an unlimited 3G data plan, DVD player in the back, and sweet blessed a/c through a brutal Midwestern heat wave. As much as I read and loved the Little House books, I would have made a miserably poor pioneer (see my previous post on the Zombie Apocalypse…also pretend I’m linking to it). I’m fairly confident the others in the wagon train would have left me outside the circle one night to feed the coyotes. Just the mere thought of rattling around in a wagon for weeks on end makes me twitchy; add in unholy July heat AND the female apparel of the day AND whiny kids and I’m pretty certain I would have jumped from twitchy to stabby in short order. I’m a delicate flower, yo.
It’s like a living Flinstones backdrop; just keeps repeating and repeating and repeating.
ZOMG! A *silver* truck with Nebraska plates! The order of the universe has been disrupted! Be afraid, be very afraid. Next thing you know, Chicagoans will be happily smearing ketchup on their hotdogs.
For the record, you haven’t lived until you’ve driven across Nebraska in July with a flatulent dog. We’ve been playing a New!Awesome!Game! “Where’s the feedlot or was that Rosie?”
The boys, bless their little overhelpful hearts, were researching hotels for the trip; J in particular. For whatever reason, both fell in love with the Courtyard by Marriott in Omaha. It’s all they’ve been talking about for days. We just passed it; you would have thought we had just driven by Disney World covered in gold leaf surrounded by hula dancers juggling fire on the back of Bigfoot’s neck.
This just in from Tom: he is convinced that our pioneer forefathers had to deal with hand-carved cone zones as teamsters randomly tore up and re-trailed parts of the route for no apparent reason. He’s crossed into CrazyLand, population one; I suspect I’m driving the next leg. (Indeed I spent the next two hours wrestling an over-stuffed MomVan into Iowa).
Iowa. Land of corn, two-lane highways, and Kum & Go service stations (man, I wish I could link from my phone; there’s a post back in my archives about Kum & Go and allll the fun and most certainly NOT family-friendly nicknames for it). Iowa has also become a leader in wind farms as of late. Based on what I’ve seen, gonna be a great wind harvest this year.
I’ve decided that EMBRACE THE CHAOS!!! (must be screamed sotto voce) is now my Life Motto. After the last few days, that perspective has kept me from hyperventilating myself right into a jacket that likes to hug. In related news, moving sucks.
Hm. Interesting thought. Iowa has given us same-sex marriage, Barack Obama, and wind energy. How is it that Michele Bachmann thinks she has a chance here? Oh yeah…she’s a local Waterloo gal, just like that John Wayne guy (agh! Wish I could link! John Wayne *Gacy*, serial murderer, was from Waterloo)…and ABBA.
We’re staying with Tom’s parents for a few days before we hightail it to Illinois (state motto: Only Idiots Pronounce The “S”). We have to be there Friday afternoon, as I have a job interview at 4. Because nothing says I’M EFFING INSANE like a job interview at the tail end of a week from hell/moving cross-country/road trip. EMBRACE THE CHAOS!!!
Tom has suddenly flashed back to his rural Iowa upbringing by noticing that the corn here hasn’t yet been detasseled. And then wept, as he hasn’t yet recovered from his summers detasseling corn. This then brought on the banter of just what the hell IS detasseling. We finally decided it was…ahem…ripping the dick off the plant. So as we see it, we’re all eating neutered corn. Oh, and now he’s pissed because he doesn’t see teenaged detasseling crews out there suffering like HE did.
Ooh! We’re coming up to Lake City (city motto: Everything But A Lake. Seriously. This one I didn’t make up.). The city mottos in rural Iowa are 31 flavors of awesomesauce.
And with that, my brain is officially depleted. Go check out some *real* writing from the NPGC blog tour, and remember to EMBRACE THE CHAOS!!!