Thursday, April 12, 2012

East With the Sun

The equipment was not calling in. It hadn't been calling in since March 17th. We notified the client that, perhaps, the machine had been unplugged. As it's in Mishawaka, Indiana, it's not a 'quick trip' out to service. If they would check on it, we'd be ever so grateful.

One snafu after another passed and it became obvious a trip was needed to see just what the heck was going on. I went yesterday. Armed with another machine and all the trappings to make it work in case there was something really wrong with the one there, I set out, into the morning sunshine.

I love days like this. Look at that sky. Look at the texture in the clouds. The contrast of light and color and dark is amazing on days like this. It's not a very long trip, around 2 hours and 45 minutes. I listened to The Tannahill Weavers, Live and In Studio; Joshua Bell, The Voice of the Violin; and Old Blind Dogs, World Room. I still haven't cleared all the CD's from the case, nor have I replaced the ones I've listened to with new ones. Eventually, I'll do it, just not right now.

I wound up having to replace the machine, set up the new one, get that running and then I could head for home. When I was heading to Ohio for April's party last month, I drove this way. I wondered, since we knew the machine wasn't working then, if I should stop and take a look. I did not because the client assured me they were investigating. Had I done that, I would have discovered the problem but would have had to come back again anyway to replace the machine. I wouldn't have gotten to drive east into a magnificent morning.

The afternoon was just as beautiful.
I could drive for days in weather like this. It wasn't too hot to be in the car. There was a bit of a breeze that I could have done without, especially going around trucks, but the driving was simple.

Doing this makes me want to plan a car trip. My dad used to do that during the summer. He'd just simply decide we needed to go somewhere and we'd all pile into the car and go somewhere, anywhere, in any direction. We used to do it, too, when Carole was a child. You'd pick a direction and drive, investigating roads whose signs you'd seen when driving back to Iowa for family events.

I don't have the monetary resources to do this spur of the moment kind of travel. It has to be planned and budgeted for. On the one hand, it keeps me honest about my money. This is what I have. This is where it has to go. This is what I have left over for whatever I want to do. That usually doesn't include just hopping in the car and going some place. On the other hand, I think expanding my horizons just a bit would do me a world of good. But I feel a sense of timidity.

When it was a family, you were sharing the experience. If something happened, you were not alone. It's just me and while I could leave a note as to where I've gone, if something happened, who would know? It's an idea to blog about in the future.

In the meantime, I jump at the chance to do these kinds of trips. I like the words Tolkien wrote in The Hobbit; "there and back again". That defines it. This trip is familiar, comfortable. I've watched the seasons change on this drive. Assuming nothing else goes wrong, I have one more ahead, when the project requiring our services ends and I need to retrieve the current machine. That will be summer and perhaps can be done with the windows off. I'm looking forward to that drive.

Beverage:  Lady Gray tea


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