flying low, shirt-tail flapping...

I am pretty sure I unconditionally swore I would not make the trip to Quitman/Valdosta again in one day. But I did. And took a nap going down and coming back: I know - not a smart way to travel, unless of course, someone else is driving... ha, ha, ha.

When I have made that six-hour-round-trip in the past, I would be up before daylight, on the road, watching the sun come up over the woods and fields of south GA. I love it this time of year, when the goldenrod is blooming and the cotton is ready for picking.And would start back north so late in the day that the things I did not see due to darkness in the early hours, I would not see due to darkness in the falling night.

Today it was unusually, remarkably, densely foggy. Very unusual. Not just in low places, but everywhere for the first hour of the drive. Dark and swirling fog are not a good recipe for safe driving, but it was uneventful. The only difficulty was with the guy who is so careful and conscientious the trip was nearly an hour longer than usual. Mr. I Drive The Speed Limit Everywhere, All The Time. So it's a wonder we are not still on the road. I had planned on a pretty tight schedule, so I would get back home in the daylight. And have been puttering around in the yard, trying to wet things before I leave town again for several days over the weekend.

We went to Valdosta to visit his daughter in the hospital. She had surgery on Monday, and has been inching along on the long road to recovery. She will be out of work for eight weeks, and though in lots of pain, and severely sore, did say she was thankful that she would not be at work over Thanksgiving - and will not ever be lifting, dragging, tossing, hauling fifty pound sacks of pet food again. Her hubby said that he was hoping that her employer might notice that she was not there taking up the slack from all the things that were currently not getting done. Not her responsibility, but things the management should be doing, though they don't.

I was confounded, astounded, astonished to hear her Dad say to her as she was lying in bed, trying not to cough, waiting for the next morphine injection that he thought knee replacement surgery was worse than having your sternum cracked and heart by-pass done. I did the slicing motion across my neck to try to get him to shut his mouth - and I am sure he could not understand he should zip it. Could this be another example of  'guy thing'?