Home in San Antonio

I arrived home this afternoon as weary as I've ever been!  Jan had left a yummy orzo dish in the fridge and met me as I was taking only the bare essentials out of the car.  Then, within minutes, Bonnie delivered a delicious loaf of pumpkin bread.  What a welcome home!  

I fell asleep within minutes, and just woke up, Luci thinking she's going to get her nightly walk--but, alas, I don't have it in me.

The days IN Georgia and Virginia couldn't have been better--and the drives TO each of those places were good, too--but the 1500 miles from Falls Church to San Antonio were the notes of my swan song as a long-distance road traveler.  In the space since doing it before, I've developed a wheel gripping fear of big bridges and no longer enjoy driving at night.  Since the days have gotten shorter, it took me five days to get home--with several long traffic blocks and last night's inability to find a place to sleep until way after dark. 

Carlene says it's important to know when it's time to give up some of the things we used to do.  And in my case, that means flying the long leaps between places and renting a car to poke around while there.  I needed to prove to myself I could still do it before admitting that--as some wise person once said--"Just because we can doesn't mean we have to." 

In former days, I'd have stopped often, chatted with people longer, and meandered down any road that looked interesting.  I did, however, spend a happy hour in Jonesboro, Tennessee, home of the National Storytelling Conference.   Tennessee Quilts was an amazing store with two floors of luscious fabric, cutting tools, samples of quilts, and offers of classes and retreats. 

This quilt, called Crosswords, was so beautiful it almost made me consider making a quilt.   What I did instead was to buy a few fat quarters to turn into book cloth for book covers. 

In former days, I'd have gotten out and taken pictures of old barns, hay bales, houses, and rusty old vehicles. On this trip, I took a few pictures without getting out of the car--just enough to jog my memory about the countryside at the two book-end Golden Hours of the day.  From the windows on interstate, all exits look pretty much the same  but if you go off the main highways,  you get to see some of what makes each little hamlet or farm its own unique self.