Driving Miss Crazy Part One

I love to travel.  I don’t like long car rides or flying so that is a dilemma when one wants to get from one place to another.  I don’t like interstate driving or destination driving like we did the last couple of days.  Destination driving, according to David is getting from one place to another as quickly as possible with as few stops as possible.  We don’t usually travel like that. When we travel, we usually stop several times at quilt shops or antique stores or just to get out and walk around.  We only stopped once in a little town called Clinton to go through some antique stores.  I was so glad to get to our destination.  David’s brother’s house.  Then I was too tired to visit for very long, but we will see him and our sister-in-law several times.  Going to the beach with them one day. Can’t wait.

Anyway, as we destination drove we passed so many interesting things we could have stopped to see.  Carl Sandburg’s house for one.   Carl Sandburg was the poet I believe who read a poem at President Kennedy’s inauguration years ago. Or was it Robert Frost?  I would have loved to have seen his house.  I bet it was really interesting.

Later, as we drove, we passed an old house and David said, “That’s a neat, old house.”  “Yes,” I replied.  “Kind of looks like what Carl Sandburg’s house might have looked like if  we had actually seen it.  “Colonel Sander’s house?” David asked.  “Carl Sandburg’s!”  I said, giggling.

We have lots of interesting conversations like that.  Like when I asked David, “Do you ever wonder why you married me?”  “No,” he said.  Then, “Do you ever regret marrying me?”  “Why?” he replied.  “Are you an ax murderer or something?”     Not yet.

Or the conversation that went like this.  I was watching the car in front of us and I asked David, “If you saw a hand sticking out of the place where the tail lights should be, would you take the car’s license plate number and follow it?”   “What are you talking about?” asked David.  “You mean to tell me you would not get the license plate number and follow that car if it had someone’s hand sticking out the tail light area?”  “Where did this come from?” asked David.  “You know all those murder shows I watch on ID where the woman is in the trunk of a car and sometimes one of them has the forethought to break out the tail light and wave her hand and gets noticed and someone calls the police? Are you telling me you would not call 911 and follow that car and get the license plate number?  You know that guy does not have good plans for that woman.”  “In that case, yes I would,” David says.  Conversation closed.

Driving with David can be exciting like when he drove from the left lane across two other lanes to get to an exit and realized it was the wrong exit.  It was serendipitous though, as we ended up on streets lined with pink azaleas, white dogwood and purple wisteria.  Mentioning these we have seen a lot of beauty the last couple of days.


Spanish moss.  It makes me thing of romantic stories.


Dogwood trees everywhere.


Azaleas.  We cannot grow these well in our state.  At least not like this.


Big southern homes with big porches or verandas as they may call them.


David does all the driving because I am too interested in looking at everything. And besides, we would actually like to arrive at our destination and alive!


Finally arrived in this state, but we took a wrong highway and ended up in this state.


Then we saw these and thought we were in England.


But we finally got back on track.

Driving along David shouts out “Pee Dee!”  I say, “What?”  “P-E-E D-E-E,” he spells for me.  “The name of a river we just crossed.”  “Oh,” I replied.  “I thought it was something you have to do.”

On a serious note, we passed a funeral procession kind of like the one in “American Sniper” with flags hanging across the street and motorcyclist after motorcyclist with flags on the backs of their bikes roaring down the highway.  Must have been a military funeral or someone important.  Police stopped all traffic and people stood on the side of the road with their hands over their hearts.  In a day of light, and laughter and fun we were reminded that death comes to all of us.  That a person’s passing is serious business and I pray all are prepared.



Going through this tunnel reminded me of the light at the end of the tunnel some people say they see in near death experiences.  David’s driving did not make me see this.  He is actually the safest driver I know even after the incident with the semi who tried to run us off the road.  See Miss Garmin hanging there in the window?  She laughed and laughed when David took the wrong exit.  I have a love hate relationship with Miss Garmin although she has found all our destinations for us pretty well, but don’t tell her because she might get the big head.

Here’s to travels and the things we see.   Bye.



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