My evening didn’t stop being a challenge after I quit writing my post last night. I have a particular way of dealing with pills when I travel. Experience has shown me that those plastic pry-up case lids on a week's supply of pills don’t always need my help to open. The resulting chaos is not to be repeated. So what I do is lay out piles of pills morning pills on the table, then put each day's worth in a little zip lock bag. Those are available online, usually under jewelry supplies, though drug dealers know them well too. That’s one reason I go the extra cost to get them in 4 mil weight. Plus, they hold up to using them multiple times with no problems. PM pills get the same treatment, and magic markers label each for time of day. Than all the AM pills go in one standard sandwich baggie and the PM ones get their own. So easy to use and they take up so little space that way.
Obviously they are among the last things packed before I head out the door. But while in my room last night, a quick hunt didn’t produce them where I thought I should have packed them. I even called Steve, asking did I leave them behind? (Not a total tragedy, but then I’d have to go dig the box of all the bottles of pills out of the car and do the routine twice every day! There were enough of everything in that box of bottles to last me until Steve flew down if I had to do it that way.) Should I give up or just look harder? Steve checked, and no, I hadn’t left them behind. Time to rack the brain. Once calmer, I recalled putting them somewhere I was sure would be taken into the motel at the end of every day. Since they weren’t in my suitcase….
I had it! They were in the bottom of the bag of dog supplies! Whew! Hey, go ahead and laugh. It worked! All the plan needed was a brain. All the brain needed was less stress. Possible some sleep, but the pills had to come before sleep, so....
We left the motel just a little later in the morning than yesterday. I’d expected it to be drier, but it was just as muggy, though even warmer, than the morning before.
I knew which way to turn out of the motel parking lot to hit the turnipke. Unfortunately, the signs gave me a choice of lanes to pick, totally divergent, to get to Wichita. One said take the right lane to go eastbound to Wichita. The other lane was bore a sign to use it to go westbound to Wichita. Need I mention that Wichita was south from there? (Is it just me or is there something about Kansas?) Good there was nearly no traffic that early because I had to stop dead in my lane to decide which wrong direction I wanted to take! Eenie, meenie, miney... I just took the firwst turn and it was the only one actually leading to the turnpike. After I approached the tollbooth to grab my ticket, the lane divided in two and this time the signs simply said “Wichita” and “Kansas City”. I guess somebody finally figured out that east and west weren’t helpful.
It can get weird when you’re out driving in the wee hours. It starts with only being able to see lane stripes, lit road signs and the occasional set of head or taillights. Eventually you get two different levels of black to chose between for some idea of what’s happening around you, one for the road and sky, the other for the deep shadows along the road which gradually identify themselves as trees or whatever. Occasionally your lights manage to elicit a pair of glows from the eyes of a roadside deer, but that was yesterday! They don’t seem to occupy spaces along the Kansas turnpike. Skyward, this morning there was a bright planet just over both the east and west horizon, and a full moon now low in the west.
Vision is even more complicated when the jacked-up pickup pulls in behind you with four high beams, two over two, all bouncing off your rearview mirror into your eyes. At that point everything else disappears. I always react by slowing down. It’s my reaction to all tailgaters, day or night. They never get me speeding up. Eventually they find an opportunity, however unsafe, to pull out and go bother some other motorist.
Two shades of black eventually resolved to a hint of a glow on the horizon. Surely that’s not dawn breaking, right? It’s the wrong direction. Hey, Ii’s Wichita! By the time I’m actually in the city, the sky overhead has resolved into a deep blue, and continued lightening from there.
Between Emporia and the end of the turnpike there are three zones to pull in to without exiting where you can get gas, food, and use the facilities.They are between the two sets of lanes of the turnpike, where you can enter and exit from either direction. Just don't get confused! The final one, and only one left after El Dorado, shows a bright pair of golden arches. Breakfast! In the short time between pulling in and parking with my sandwich, I noticed a particular cloud, formerly invisible as it had been totally dark when I'd passed under it. Most of it still was dark grey and flat as if it were a budding thunderhead. One spot rose straight up from the top in a column, high enough it was lit up by a sun not yet over my horizon.
I think some times that wind currents must have a sense of humor, a whimsy if you will. In the moment I first noticed the clouds, the lit top was a perfect rendition of a scruffy dog head. No imagination needed. After unwrapping my sandwich and taking my first bite, it had changed. Still the only part lit, the top part had morphed into a man’s head. From the bottom up, there was a jutting chin with a pointed beard, a smiling mouth as if reveling in the first rays of the sun, a bulbous nose in front of a high cheekbone, a heavy brow over a deep-set eye, and hair that was pulled off the forehead into a knot on the top of the head. Before I finished my sandwich, it was just another messy cloud again.
Whimsy!
By the time I rolled across the border to Oklahoma around 7, the sun was fully up. The wispy clouds in front of me were now white, having first been noticeable as pink, then later yellow, the pink in turn gracing the low western clouds.
The rest of my day was pretty much same-old, same-old. Only now the roads were much bumpier. It continues through Oklahoma and the Texas panhandle. Apparently New Mexico has had some recent road construction, as there is a noticeable smoothing of the pavement. Steve will be happy to hear that flying down is by far the best choice for his worsening back! I, on the other hand, am enjoying myself, even though well aware of the bumps. But my back is fine. It's just that Steve has gotten me aware of what each bump would cost him in pain. Personally, I don't worry about a bump unless it threatens to break an axle, something that's never happened to me. There was a pothole years ago that bent my tire rim and cost me a flat, but....
I took the “mandatory” stop at the Cherokee Trading Post, and made a few small purchases after finding out that what really caught my eye was not coming along with me at its $300 price tag. Regardless, it was a quick stop since the heat was rising and the dog had to stay in the car.
I did manage finally to find a few public radio stations on the way, lightening the miles. As the freeway descended Sandia Mountain into Albuquerque, I was glad I wasn’t heading uphill, aka out of downtown in rush hour. A few sets of flashing lights indicated the start of what looked like about 8 miles of stop and… yep, just sit. We all drove by them heading towards the city center at a steady 65.
Before hitting the motel I stopped for a supper sandwich a couple blocks away. Drive through, of course, since that’s the only way I didn’t have to wear a mask. New Mexico is requiring them everywhere inside again, and people are respecting it. As I exited, traffic on the street was stopped for a light. As it changed, cars started moving again, except the guy in the grey truck just back from where I was. He sat. So, figuring he meant to, I pulled out, drove the three car lengths to the corner for a right turn to head back to the motel. As soon as I entered the street, he honked steadily at me until past where I turned off.
I didn’t think more of it. I just figured it was mistaken communication. Staying put a few extra seconds is no big deal and it’s what I’ve both done and seen done when letting another car out into traffic. At the motel, I donned my mask, went in and registered, and came back out… just to find the same grey truck in their parking lot behind my car, front window rolled down, and the driver yelling at me.
“You pulled out in front of me.” Really, he’s inconvenienced for two seconds and he follows me around the 4 blocks it took to get back to the motel, then waited in the parking lot while I checked in, just to accost me?
“Wow, you followed me all this way to tell me that?”
“You pulled out in front of me.”
“You were stopped.”
“No I wasn’t. You pulled out in front of me.”
"Yes you were."
"You pulled out in front of me."
Well... I’m glad you were paying attention.”
He gave up on me then and backed out of the parking lot. I could have meant my last comment different ways, including a sarcastic comment on his not paying attention when the light changed and starting up with the other traffic, but, hey, why push it with a nasty tone? As I was still wearing my mask, having just left the office, he couldn't see facial expressions, so who knew what he thought he was reacting to?
The motel gets one thing right. The bed is a normal low height. I can sit in it rather than climb up. Somehow there must be a secret motel code that requires that they make up for beds you have to climb up into by adding extra pillows you can’t possibly need. This one only has two of them! Of course the sheet and blanket are pulled tight and tucked in so hard I need a shovel to dig my way under them!
Wait! What blanket?
Incidentally, this post will also be put online later after I get home. After getting the wi-fi code at this motel, I was offered a choice between paying $6 for the privilege (stop by with your card), or… well, the free option wasn’t clickable. If you happened to send an important email, we’re both SOL for another 24 hours. But hey, don’t bother trying to figure it out. The fact that you’re reading this means I connected with wi-fi again. At home. Safe.
No comments:
Post a Comment