Let’s Go…

Let’s Go…

The little house says “stay.” Keep the garden watered. Set pavers under the clothesline because it’s hard to walk on the rough ground there. Let’s have the final coat of stucco put on the garage. Label all the photos in that box before we forget the people in them. I’ve been intending to stitch up insulated draperies for the west-facing windows where the summer sun comes in so hot. We can afford to take that train to see Grand Canyon, or we can finish fencing the yard. And I feel guilty if Velvet can’t purr in my lap while I type or Nellie purr against the curve of my back at 4 a.m.

But the little road says “go.” We have brothers and sisters, children and grandchildren–even “greats”–across a swath of states. And how much longer will we be able to travel independently? To drive? For that matter, how long will we travel together?

There’s a hymn we call our traveling song: “My heavenly home is bright and fair; I feel like traveling on.”   Right now we feel like traveling on, and on the way we want to see as much of this fascinating earth as we have time for.  So we’ve sent for brochures, noted sites on the Internet, googled routes and campgrounds, scenic byways and local museums, picked up maps from Triple A…  It’s time…

Been Here? Done That? Tell Me About It!