drivin' to south GA...

Years ago, I would drive to Albany, having arranged to meet my parents 'halfway'. Meaning it was about the same distance for us to drive, and spend a few hours together. I had little people in the back seat, securely tied down to prevent them from levitating, so excited with anticipation. Looking forward to meeting their grandparents for lunch at the mall, or picnic in the park.  I found the drive from here to there was about ninety minutes... now that travel is measured in time rather than miles.    

So we will assume that getting to Albany takes an hour and a half, due to suppressed speed limits through Ft. Benning. As well as the necessity for keeping an eagle eye out, spying local enforcement in rural areas who have too much time on their hands. Remarkably undeveloped, rural areas along the four-lane where you'd think you could drive hell-for-leather with no traffic whatsoever. Nothing but corn and cotton for miles around. Which is, I guess, why those deputies sit there behind a stump waiting for the city-boys who set the cruise control on 85 in a 55 zone. I've paid enough of their tickets, I'm definitely in the know!

I left home on Monday morning about 5:30, headed to Valdosta. And got home again about 7:30. which makes for a tiresome day of driving.  Stopped at wally world in Albany for gas, and set my mileage checker. I just looked at it this morning, and see that I drove 297 yesterday, so when I add the ninety for driving to Albany to that: nearly four-hundred.

I went to Valdosta to see a friend, then had lunch with another friend. Went by to visit my auntie, who lives there. And on to Q-town. Where I loaded up boxes full of old cans of paint, insecticides, solvents, assorted, miscellaneous hazardous materials, used glass jars, plastic containers: all to go to recycling center here. I did not want it to end up in landfill, though I doubt my good intentions make much difference. Especially down in rural south Georgia where agricultural run-off and ground water pollution is an accepted way of life. But my conscience is clear - and will be even more transparent when I take all those boxes to the new city recycle center to dispose of all those haz-mat chemicals and cans of dried up paint.

So:  getting all that bad stuff out of my car is my only major project for today. I've already swept up the dozen or so millipedes that were trooping across the tiles in the kitchen. And will probably find six or eight more when I stop typing and look again. Where in the world do they come from? And how in the world do they get in?