Sabbatical. Yep. This blog is supposed to be all about our sabbatical travels. So I thought you might want to be a fly on our truck wall and see what it's like to travel with Loy and Kitt.
Well, to start with, we take the truck, not my post-cancer Cadillac. Loy hates my car--for whatever reason, he won't drive it. Or ride in it. So, we ride in his truck, which is OK.
I am fortunate in that Loy does the driving. Always. With the sleepiness I always feel, this is a good thing. I do my best to stay awake in the morning but, after lunch, it's nap time, no two ways around it. Loy turns on podcasts through the radio speakers and I doze off to "Mike and Mike," or "Freakonomics." These sound so dull, but actually I kind of like listening to them. (Usually he listens to them at 1-1/2 speed, but I refuse to have that going on in the background. I think it's unhealthy to listen to things so fast. So they are normal speed, just for me. Tell me that's not love!)
This summer, on our way down to Dallas, I was snoozing in the passenger seat when I opened my eyes and looked at Loy. I could've SWORN that his eyes were shut and that he was falling asleep!! I started yelling and hitting him..."LOY, LOY, LOY!!!!! Wake up!!!!!" Well, turns out he wasn't asleep. He was just driving along, minding his own business, listening to his podcasts, and I started screaming and hitting him!!! Poor guy!!!
Our first stop was to visit my parents' graves in Geneseo, Illinois. Mom died in 1986 and Daddy died in 1990. Long time ago. I still miss them.
One of the funniest moments, in my mind, anyway, while there was when, at the very end of a hot dominoes game, Loy laid the 11/12 down. Yvonne said, "Ahhhhhhhh." Like she hadn't seen that very same domino in 12 other hands. Like that was the particular domino she had been waiting for forever. Like this was THE MOVE in the entire game. It's not as funny when I write it, but it was hilarious when you were there!
Next, we headed over to Thousand Islands, NY. (Yes, the dressing was invented there, although there is some dispute just who invented it and the circumstances.)
When I was a little girl I got carsick easily so I had to sit in the front seat. (That always kind of irked Mom, because she was stuck in the backseat.) And my job was to read the map. I mean, I was like 10-years-old and it was my job to navigate us through Minneapolis or Atlanta! I loved that job (and sitting in the front!) but it was such pressure. I would check and re-check the route. (I mean, what was Daddy thinking, letting a 10-year-old plan the route???) I would watch the signs and try to give enough warning for everything. It was tough. I lived in fear of making a mistake. Daddy was never mean about it (at least not to my face) but I sure didn't want to fail at this.
Now my job with Loy is the same--getting him through traffic. But we don't seem to work well as a team. He doesn't like modern technology so, usually, doesn't let me turn on Googlemaps for directions.
We were driving through Toronto on the way and the conversation went something like this:
Loy: Here's Highway 407. Do I take it?
Kitt: Let me look...I don't see 407...are you sure it's 407...THERE IS NO 407 ON THIS MAP!!
L: But should I take it?
K: How do I know? THERE IS NO 407 ON THIS MAP!!!
L: There's traffic here...I need to know. Now.
K: I CAN'T HELP YOU HERE!!!
L: But, should I take it?
K: ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
(Tempers flare. Silence prevails.)
Later, when the emergency had passed (we did NOT take 407 but, in retrospect, think we should have.) I looked at the atlas copyright date. 1995. Can you believe it??? He's expecting me to navigate with an atlas made of bear skins and drawn in elk blood. TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD ATLAS!! I can't work under these conditions. I demand a new atlas!!
My other job, as we drive through towns, is to read random signs that sound interesting.
Kitt: Hmmm. Nude Pizza.
Loy:
K: Hmmm. Wunnerful.
L:
K: Hmmm. Drive-through tattoos.
L:
K: Edna's House of Pain
L:
K: Wouldn't you think that "Flat Roofs R Us" would have a flat roof instead of all those peaks?
L:
I don't know why I read those signs out loud. I don't want to go there. They are just interesting and unusual and silly. If Loy responds at all to these sign readings it is something like, "Where?" and by then, of course, it's long gone.
We drove to Thousand Islands via Canada. My words of advice to Loy upon going through customs? "Don't talk too much." I feel he has a tendency to explain too much to people. I didn't want him explaining to the customs guy that black powder muzzleloaders are not considered firearms. I did not want him to tell the customs guy that we had 3 apples in the cooler. And he did very well. We got through--and back in to the country!
Canada has "En Route's" for their rest stops. They are gas station/restaurant all wrapped up in one (this was a toll way, so maybe that's why they had these.) What I learned? Canada likes restaurants called "Tim Horton's." They offer donuts instead of fries, your choice. There were about 8 million Tim Horton's on the ride through Ontario.
Thousand Islands was beautiful. We stayed in a cottage on the St. Lawrence River and saw beautiful sunsets. We took two boat tours, one to see the millionaires fancy homes on the aforementioned islands, the other to tour Singer Castle, which is on an island. (This picture is Boldt Castle.)
Loy said that he kept thinking of Ecclesiastes while touring the two castles we looked at..."vanity, vanity..." These people built these things that were extremely extravagant and showy. And now they are deteriorating and host tours and the people are dead.
And you also realize how heirs get so greedy and fight a lot. Over riches. Earthly riches.
(BTW--this one is not the castle. This is the servant's quarters. The real castle is about 5 times as large.)
And that concludes Day 1 of our travels (well, actually I should say Installment #1--it's taken several days).
More to come...
Love,
Kitt.
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