Well, the scheduled activities are finally over. The only thing that remains is the drive home from Utah. I feel a bit like the losing team at the end of a hard-fought battle on the baseball diamond. It’s time for the long, slow walk back to the clubhouse.
The drive home from Utah was fairly uneventful. We stopped at a Las Vegas truck stop for lunch, and let me tell you, it hurts my heart to drive past Las Vegas and not actually go there. The low point of today's travels happened when I was behind the wheel. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I hit a bird today. It was the worst feeling ever. I never saw the little guy in the road. When I heard the sound it startled me, because I didn't know what I had hit, so I quickly looked in the rearview mirror. All I saw was a stumpy round body and a puff of feathers shooting into the air. I felt sufficiently guilty, even before Tom screamed "Birdkiller!" at me and turned his back on me in the passenger seat. He didn't speak to me for a whole five minutes. The scene kept playing over and over in my mind as I drove along. Kinda makes the butterfly seem like chump change. I eventually made myself feel better by putting it in perspective--it could have been a human.
We rolled into Mom's house without further incident around 4:30 P.M. on Wednesday, August 13th. I had to drop off Tom, but we talked Mom into making dinner and she obliged. Jack and I finally pulled into my parking space around 7:00 that evening. With all the amazing moments we had on our adventure, it feels good to finally be home. Jack did a fantastic job. I most definitely owe him a service, a car wash, and a great big hug. I think I'll wait for that last one until all the dead bugs have been washed off.
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1 comment:
The irony of your bird killing with bird brother in the car is just amazing. Since you're a model citizen in all other respects, I think karma will be kind to you.
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