Ruminated for 14 hours straight. When I finally parked the mower,
I decided to act on what my cousin Rolly had written to me about: family ties and regrets.
It took me less than 2 hours to pack all the dogs' food, bedding, winter coats, my own necessities and our inflatable bed. Hard boiled some eggs for the road, loaded everything in my 17 year old dually (car's been in the shop for two weeks since it's last attack of electronic gremlins).
I didn't get very far, like into Georgia, before I had to pull over due to fatigue.
Then I hopscotched my way, napping as I could in shady parking lots, towards Canada.
Progress was excruciatingly slow.
Naps were fitful and unproductive.
Tried to jar myself back to life with a little stroll in a Virginia state park with the dogs, with little success. My plan was to drive the 21 hours straight, partly because I'm insane, but mostly because no motel will allow 4 large dogs.
Still in Virginia's southern end, I threw in the towel. Situations had changed and I nosed the my 1 ton truck back to Alabama. Sad, disappointed and dead tired, we rolled back onto the farm 24 hours later.
I'm calling this a dress rehearsal for the real trip. My mother was elated at the thought that I had planned to surprise her by tying Dax to her front door and hiding the truck down the road. Not one iota of disappointment showing, bless a mother's heart. My Dad was visibly relieved when I aborted mission, fearing I'd either end up in accident from fatigue or the forecasted snow storm to hit at the end of the week.
Next time, we will have the car and her snow tires as our coach. Chester will not have to endure Dax invading all his personal space.
