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Posted by Mummy Dearest on Aug-15-2004

The Father left today. We drove him off to the airport, ate hamburgers together and then wished him well.

When we came home, The Girl pulled out one of our 1000 piece puzzles and we set it up on the table in our T.V. room.

That is what we do, in phase two, once The Father is gone : we shift gears and move to a slower speed.

And on a lighter note, today Dad’s leg showed a dramatic improvement: the best in months. I have two more weeks with him, and he seems to listen to me: I dangle next year’s road trip before his eyes and he remains seated. Let’s make sure that this is a temporary thing, I tell him, not a permanent one.

The magic and power of a road trip.

Isn’t a road trip just too American ?

  1. jo Said,

    Deeply embedded under my raging desire to live in Europe coupled with my latent home body tendancies is a burning desire to drive across the country. Not on the highways where one sees only trees, but along the roads that *used* to be the path before the super highways. The roads with the signs for the famous mermaids, come see the world’s largest ball of twine, see dinosaur tracks in my backyard. That kind of thing.
    I think road trips are embedded in our genetic make-up.

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