Looks like we made it

We made it. We made it!

But you know...now it makes total sense to me, knowing that Willie Nelson was high all the time when he sang "I just can't wait to get on the road again." Because I just couldn't wait to get off the road again. And now that I'm off, I plan to stay off for a good long time.

But the important thing is...we made it to Nashville. Woo! But getting here, well, that was an adventure worthy of a storyteller. I may not be able to do it justice, but I'll try to at least give you the gist.

We may not have jolted across the plains in a covered wagon or eaten buffalo meat, but we did have 1) one emergency doctor's visit in Albuquerque (David); 2) two lost (but subsequently found) watches (no word on whether they were blind but now see) (Diane); 3) one case of aggravated tendonitis in the wrist from too much carrying and driving (me); and 4) one case of croup (William). And I think I can fairly say that I've had more than my fill of Holiday Inn Express cinnamon rolls for the time being.

We started out last Wednesday from the Holiday Inn Express in 29 Palms. We had breakfast with Dr. Perkins, aka Dr. Mimi, and then dropped off our keys and sped out of town. I got my first (and thankfully) last look at the "town" of Amboy, or at least its remains baking in the 118 degree shimmers of heat. Then we decided to stop for lunch in Needles. Well, we stopped at KFC, and you know, you'd think that we'd be all clear, since it wasn't the 29 Palms KFC, but no. The good news is no, they were not out of chicken, but that was about the only thing that went right there. God, what were we thinking? It was still the desert! I had to resort, finally, to using my Omniscient Mom Voice in order to procure some napkins from the clueless counter girl. I don't break that Voice out very often, so when I do, all I can say is look out. I got my napkins. We ate lunch. But after that, I declared a moratorium on KFCs for the time being. Until they can regain my trust.

But hey, we did get a couple of cute pictures outside this wagon next to the KFC.































Finally, we made it to Tasayan, Arizona. We dropped our stuff at a motel and headed to see the Grand Canyon. And "Grand" is really not a strong enough word to describe it. It is majestic. It is incredible. The colors, the striations in the rock, they barely look real. With the sun slanting from the west, the ridges are sharp in the light, cutting dramatic shadows. I felt silly even taking photos, knowing that I've seen a million photos of the canyon and never felt anything from seeing them. But we tried.

















We barely got a taste of the canyon, since we only spent a few hours there, gaping at it. But we had to head out Thursday morning. We had a lot of road left in front of us. We ate lunch in Flagstaff...somehow Diane and David managed to pull up in front of KFC and convince me to go in, and all I can say is that they must have cast a spell on me or something, but luckily, it was an uneventful experience. Around that time, she discovered that her two lost watches were actually hiding in the bottom of her purse, and we all joked about that for awhile. At least one good thing came out of us going to KFC.

We turned east and pressed on toward Albuquerque. I listened to XM radio and talked to Mom for a little while on my cell phone, while Diane made up lyrics to new songs and taught William an extended version of Pattycake in the backseat of David's car in front of me. We ate pancakes in an IHOP in Albuquerque and planned the next day's drive and nighttime destination, Oklahoma City. Allowing some time to sleep in the next morning, we'd have about eight hours on the road and still be able to get there by dinnertime, David speculated. We all could use a good night's sleep.

Unfortunately--yeah, you all knew that was coming--William didn't want to settle down that night. We didn't have a separate room or nook for his Pack'n'Play, so he did his little bob-and-weave stand-up routine until we gave up and turned off the lights. Which might have been okay if we all could have stayed in bed the next morning, but instead, David woke up at dawn with an annoying itch on his face. He got up to examine what turned out to be a rash on his face, and William didn't miss a thing. He was standing up in the Pack'n'Play at 6:30, fussing and unwilling to go back to sleep. Worse, David's rash seemed to be spreading, and his face was swelling around his lips and chin, and he flapped around the hotel room in distress. I flipped open the phone book and found the number for a local Air Force base. David called to see if a doctor in the clinic on base would take him for an emergency urgent care visit, making sure to emphasize that he was a doctor and just needed a prescription and it wouldn't take long. Around 11:30 a.m., prescription in hand, he met up with Diane, William and me--we drove to historic Old Town and bought jewelry--and we headed out on the road. Again. David was grumpy and worried about his face, and we were all tired, but we had to keep on truckin'. Insert your favorite road song lyric here.

And God love Jack Kerouac and all the other great writers who have waxed and rhapsodized about the open road, but I hate it. I hate the long endless mocking expanse of highway. I hate the monotony of the medians, even when they're pretty. I even start to hate fast food after I've had it for more than three straight days. Stuckeys and Love's Truck Stops lose their campy allure after the first 100 you've seen. And the West doesn't even have many of those hilarious "Go to church or the devil will git you" signs to entertain you along the way. What a bust. I listened to whatever baseball games I could find on the radio and watched my gas gauge and tried, really tried, to find some romance in the Road. But how much romance can there be when you're mostly consumed with thinking 1) I hope we can find a gas station that's both not scary and has a clean restroom, 2) where can we stop for lunch where we can find appropriate food to feed a toddler, 3) I hope they have a changing table there because I am not changing the poopy diaper of a wriggly toddler on the narrow backseat of my car, 4) am I ever going to get good cell phone coverage ever again, and 5) gosh, I hope he takes a mega-long nap and gives Diane a rest from reading "Babybug" and the panda book for the ninetieth time.

Diane was a trooper, she really was. She read countless books to William and played endless games with him. She handed him scores of Goldfish crackers, picked up his binky when he inevitably dropped it, and oversaw the administration of water and milk sippy cups on a regular basis. I had tried to pack a lot of books for William to read on the trip, but you know, reading a 12-page book only lasts so long, and even if you have a dozen board books, that doesn't soak up that much time. William, to be fair, behaved really well in the car. Better than most adults, I'd say. But who wants to be strapped into a carseat all day every day for the better part of a week?

We were all grouchy when we finally got to OK City. And it was late, due to our late start. We listlessly put away some more McDonald's while we sat on our hotel beds, and then started dreading the next day. Diane held William wWihen I tried to feed him dinner on the hotel room floor, then we gave him a quick bath (and he cried because I had to keep running more water into the tub because water kept seeping down the drain, and he was frightened by the gush of water from the faucet). Once again, William stayed awake while we did, but no one was in the mood for a late night, despite the fact that we had once again switched time zones.

The next day was better. William definitely thought so: Mama Dee gave him butterscotch pudding and Froot Loops for breakfast, woohoo! We knew we were headed to Memphis and Grandaddy Dudley's house, and I figured that we'd seen the worst of the trip. The trees crowded up against the highway were a relief after the lonesome wide open spaces of the west. Grandaddy was thrilled to see us, and we were happy to see him, too. William, especially.


















By that time, William had developed a cough. And my sensitive ears picked up on the timbre of the cough as soon as I heard it: the croup. It worsened Saturday night, and I got up in the night, time and again, to comfort him. At one point, David and I realized he was burning up, and we gave him a dose of Motrin, but we managed to spill half of it on his second-to-last clean pair of pajamas. Blearily, I changed his pajamas and said a silent prayer of thanks that the trip was nearly over. I tossed and turned on the sleeper sofa in Grandaddy's den, and then suddenly, it was morning. Sunday morning, the last leg of the trip in front of us. We bid Grandaddy Dudley farewell and I promised to come back to visit soon.



















And just a few hours later, we were pulling up in front of our new house! Our big wonderful empty house.

















While Diane guarded an exhausted William, asleep in his PnP in his braned new bedroom, David and I drove to a nearby (!) Target and gleefully filled up a shopping cart. We bought toilet paper and dishwashing liquid and hand soap and a broom and oh, all sorts of goodies. We even ran into people we know at the Target. And today, after a visit with William's new doctor, we went to Sonic and got cherry limeades and then went to Toys R Us and bought a swing for William's new swingset. And we finished up our first complete day in Nashville by making a wide-eyed, giddy tour of the new Publix grocery store that is mere minutes from our front door. David and I probably looked like idiots, cheering aloud as we read the expiration dates from the bottoms of the jars of mayo and peanut butter. "May 2009! Yeah!" David cried, plunking down a jar of Hellman's in the cart. Take that, silly 29 Palms commissary, with your mayonnaise that expires after about five weeks.

Right now, I'm hunkered down in the empty bonus room on the second floor of our new house. William is asleep. My brother left a little while ago, having come over for the tour of the new house and to share a pizza. David's wandering around the room in front of me, thinking about buying another new TV--his current favorite daydream. I guess I'll sign off for now. I'm so glad that we are here, we are alive and healthy (er, mostly), and the trip is OVER. Buenos noches. I'm off to sleep in my happy new room.