Travel Tidbits

I'm just back from one of my semi-annual trips down south to visit my daughter. As I head south, I'm called "ma'am" by men of all ages and "darlin'" by women of all ages, and I find it charming. Perhaps it's the southern accent. It does seem to soften much of what's said. When I'm addressed that way up north, especially by those who appear very young to me(and that group grows almost daily), I start to feel decrepit--my bones ache (more) and I wonder where I left my cane. Driving down Interstate 95, I noticed that a few cars are now able to go sideways. I've gotten used to cars making a quick dash to get in front of me. With this new maneuver, it's more frightening than ever, because they aren't speeding forward at the same time. But then my mind wandered to how much I would love to have that feature on my own car. I've never mastered the art, or science, of parallel parking, and this would take care of that problem beautifully. My daughter had a new board game. I enjoy these as long as they don't have seven pages of rules. We played it a couple of times and I found out that I did better when I followed my instincts than when I tried to plan too much. This happens to me in real life as well. Speaking of which, planning is often over-rated. Unless you have specifics you definitely want to see, "going with the flow," as we used to say, is simpler. I meet my daughter for lunch the first day I arrive. This trip, it looked as though I was going to arrive quite early and I put a fair amount of thought into how I would spend that hour or two. Then, what with an unexpected late start and traffic being more erratic than usual, I was actually too late to have lunch with her. No harm done, but I did laugh at myself for the time I'd wasted reviewing my options. Let's get back to the fact that I'm in the south. I'm sure you know that they have a dish called "grits." I tried it once and, I don't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised that it was rather tasteless and ... well, gritty. Very unappealing to me. But southerners seem to love it. I've come to this conclusion because they try to serve it to me all the time, not just at breakfast. I hear, "Would you like grits with that?" as often as, "Have a nice day, y'all!" "No, thank you." "No, thank you." "No, thank you." I was all ready with my response when we stopped for ice cream, fully expecting to be offered grits yet again. But no. Apparently it doesn't go with desserts. Thank goodness. It was a good trip and but it's nice to be home. I figure that after two or three days rest, I'll be ready to tackle real life again.