There’s no new emergency, no worries there. I’m thinking about our three simultaneous emergencies that hit in early December: trailer floor replacement, knee surgery, and mystery endocrine ailment. One is completely solved, the other two I’m wrestling with still, but I have both down for the count.
As I reported last week, the trailer has been repaired, and we got everything all moved back in, despite atrocious weather in Ohio. I took this glorious photo before the big unpacking extravaganza happened. Damn I own a lot of stuff. It’s always the piddly items that are lying around in the way, since that’s the stuff you’re not sure you want to keep so it all sit ms there in limbo, taunting you. I’m coming to get you, piddly stuff.
So yes, we moved back into the trailer in Ohio and took off, which was a major feat. That first play of “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad” was extra sweet.
We’re headed to Florida to start the 2024 trip as we’d intended, and we’re having to travel kind of quickly (yawn) to get back on track. Hence the drinks, above, from Dueling Grounds Distillery in Kentucky.
We spent one night in their parking lot thanks to Harvest Hosts. The whisky and gin were delicious; I had a second gin at the tasting room bar, listening to guys run a meeting for their forklift company while Tracy walked Banjo. But the traffic right outside the trailer kept me up last night. No wonder we could book a spot with these guys, no problem.
The knee news is a little frustrating. My physical therapist from Brownsville generously spoke with me on the phone about my progress since I last saw him, and it’s not where it should be. I should be walking without a limp by now, and I’m far from that. I know these long travel days are partly to blame; all this sitting increases swelling (plus the box lifting), which keeps the knee stiff and uncomfortable. He’s sending me additional exercises and tips, bless him.
The overall health appointments are winding down but without satisfying closure. Who attacked Shelly’s energy in the library—was it her thyroid with a candlestick? Or her pituitary gland with a tumor? Or is the big reveal that Shelly is a hypochondriac, and all suspects are innocent? There could be multiple endings to this mystery, but I am eliminating suspects one by one.
Right now we’re pushing our way through morning rush hour traffic in Nashville (been there) on our way to Tuscaloosa (haven’t been there) for the weekend. Tracy’s listening to some metal band that starts with an S according to our game, and I’m navigating and knitting Finn a sweater. Onward.
Yup…your lifestyle is not making knee recovery any easier. Speaking of knee recovery…have you read “Touching the Void” by Joe Simpson ? Probably not as you’re not a rock climber (yet). Terrific read that is also a movie and one badass knee story. Perseverance and PT will surely win the day.
Haven’t read that yet, but I’ve got it on my list now. And Coach, I’ve been doing my exercises like crazy, I swear! It’s the swelling that is my nemesis.
No slacking off. Also…sweet new collar Banjo girl!
Banjo looks mighty fine in it, too!
Are my comments being gobbled by your spam filter?
YES. I will look for them now.
Funny that one got through.
Hmm, nothing from you for a while. Sorry if the problem is on my end … very strange.
I left a comment on this when you first posted it. Nothing earth shattering I’m sure… but still.
This time I can say for certain I didn’t go in and change the publishing date post-publishing or move it to the drafts folder temporarily or any of the usual mucking around I do that messes up people’s comments. Hands off, I promise. So weird.
It may be on my end. It’s happened with a few other of my blog buddies as well…
🥴
I’m glad you are back on the road for real! I looked at the map and was initially thinking ‘what a waste’ that you had to go all the way up to Ohio and then all the way back down to Florida. But then I figured, it’s all part of the same journey. So none of it is a waste.
You’re right in theory, but that trip was a lot of interstate driving and crappy one-night parking lot stays. It’s done though and now we know we’re capable!
Slayer? Stryper? Supertramp?
(OK, probably not Supertramp.)
Staind. I hate the genre, but at least they were competent.
I had a Staind CD. You could do worse.
You amaze me, sir. Seems like someone who’d own Staind would be an experienced ax wielder.