Hard at Work! (or hardly?)...

Finally back in the studio preparing for the summer shows.

Camp Murphy...

...is not the name of the park, but the name of an old WW II training site from the 1940's that was located here. Over 5000 men and a 1000 buildings once stood here, now all that remains is some old crumbling roads, a few buildings housing park staff and some concrete structures that resemble bomb shelters. The feeling of abandonment mixed with an other worldly alien presence prevails here atop the "Hobe Mountain". It towers 86 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, just a couple of miles to the east. Hobe Mountain is also the highest point for many miles around...hmm, gives flood plane a whole new meaning.

...the climb up the 86 feet is easy. I was distracted by the Martian landscape...remember Orson's movie where the men from the Red Planet made red slimy vines grow over everything. Ditto here...it was really cool! Once you get to the crest of the ancient sand dunes you see the observation tower in the distance...it looks like there should be Flying Monkeys circling it and the cackle of some witch threating to steal your little dog too.

...what you will see are big black Vultures circling the ridge the tower sits on, riding the waves of warm air that rise above the ridge. Maybe they're looking for Toto. The park offers trails to walk/run/get lost on, the Lasahatchiecosie'something to canoe/kayak/swim in and other things I just didn't have the time to do in my short stay here...next time.

Friends...

...it's nice to have them when you need them. It's also nice to make new ones when you least expect it. That's what happened to me this last weekend. Last year I was 'Hut-less and stayed in motels on the weekends I had shows. Either that or I depended on the generosity of friends and their compassion for taking in wayward artists. This year with the 'Hut and the show promoter's offer of parking lots for the artists to stay in on the weekends, I have not had to impose on the generosity of my friends here in Florida. I also had not realized that an invisible network seems to link traveling artists and those that take them in.

...this last weekend during the Venice show the 'Hut was not parked in some noisy parking lot crammed between giant motor homes and pulsating generators. It was parked at a "friend of a friend's" under Live Oaks and Palms on real grass with acres of quite space! Other artists were there as well, accepting the offer of respite and quiet to be found under the trees. The offer to stay for many more days was tempting. I did stay an extra day and had homemade pizza, wine made by a distant friend and the conversation of fellow artists that evening. We were supposed to have the world's best Oatmeal cookies too...Warren and I forgot to buy enough whole wheat floor on the grocery run...next time we won't! To John and Laurie whose home is now a home to me...God bless you.

The Highland Hammock State Park...

...is very near the town of Sebring. I know that because I ran out of LP in one of my tanks and I couldn't fire up my grill last night. It took only 20 minutes to drive to Sebring, exchange the tank, get my butt back and put the fresh tuna on the grill. The tuna was accompanied by those little red soft skinned potatoes that were steamed in my potato bag (that's another story unto itself), some real guacamole and giant red tomatoes. I made it all from fresh ingredients. The tuna was never frozen and the veggies came from a road side stand down the road. Two very helpful ladies made sure I got my money's worth when I tried to short myself on the oranges I had counted out wrong and then when I tried to give them an "extra" five dollar bill. "Ya got'ta watch those new fives Hun, they stick together like that all the time." she admonished me. "Yes Ma'm they sure do, thank you dear for the help." was my response. As I walked back to the camper I could here them say "He was such a nice boy!" Yes Ma'm, I am.

...this park is very different from Kissimmee Prairie Preserve. Not only is this park very near civilization and all the creature comforts it offers, but it is also a very busy, very organized park with 140 camping spots. I can go to drum circles, pancake feeds, pot lucks and even take a tram ride some where out in the Hammocks I guess...damn! The camping areas are very open, the individual camping spots much closer together and the folks here don't seem near as neighborly as the people of the Prairie. I guess isolation brings out the best in people.

...I did walk and run most of the trails today. The elevated Cat Walks are cool and mysterious, some even a little scary. I didn't see any gators in the cool weather, but I bet they stay close to the narrow walks that have only one rail...wary be the tottering Snow Bird! There are giant Live Oaks that grow here hat are over 1000 years old. The things they have lived through I cannot imagine. How long they live for I do not know either. I can only appreciate the here and now of them...they will out live all of us and our comparatively brief lives as we walk by their giant root structures in awe. The 1000 year old tree had a girth of over 34' when measured 4' from the ground...impressive to say the least.

...the life cycles of many of the plants and animals are interconnected, one dependent on the other for their continued survival...symbiosis. I'm sure the giant Live Oaks are host to 100's of life forms. Many of the trees had brightly colored lichens and mosses on them. The weather was cool when I walked with my camera, I saw few birds, animals or insects. When I walked the Cat Walks and peered into the water looking for giant gators, all I saw were billions and billions of wriggling larva. As soon as the weather warms the air will be full of insects, the small birds will follow the insect hatch, the larger birds and animals will follow suit. I was glad it was cooler...I didn't want to be part of the food chain and be the first course for the the newly hatched mosquitoes.

...my eyes did see flickering light and shadow, new forms and shapes, new textures and designs. The light here is not what I am used to. It "moves", or rather the constant movement of the plants make it seem to move and dance. When I run the dappled trails I almost get a feeling of motion sickness. That combined with the rattle and rustle of the palm fronds make for some weird moments as I run. The shapes of some of the root balls and knobs border on the sur-real. Some resemble alien creatures from space movies...or maybe the costume creators of the movie "Alien" walked the same elevated walks I did. At first glance many of the organic root forms seem to be on the verge of coming to life and writhing their way across the swamp. Still others make you look twice to see if they are really an innate root or possibly one of the giant Boa Constrictors that are taking over the swamps of southern Florida. I know the forms are the result of seasonal flooding, life spans of time and the shear adaptability of a species. No energy is wasted and only the most adaptable survive for long.

...one of my favorite Florida plants is the lowly Sabal Palm...alias Cabbage Palm, Sabal Palmetto, Cabbage Palmetto and variations of. It's giant Palm fronds are a play of form, light and shadow to me. Running through them, around them and under them is a joy. I don't know all the species there are, but there must be many. I'm sure I could fill up a photo album with photos of light filtering through the massive fan shaped fronds. Something about how the light reacts with the folds and lines of the segmented leaves amazes me. The artists in me is excited about capturing the images and feelings on paper or clay. The little boy in me is just happy running under them...letting his imagination run wild as well.

Kiss mee...

Larry...my neighbor from Texas.

...my trip south started on a note of panic...the roads are closed! After waiting two days for I-90 south of Sioux City to be reopened, I decided to head east out of Sioux Falls on the morning of the 16th. The roads

The Great Kissimmee Prairie.

were in fair condition and the scenery nicer to scene. The farther south I traveled, the better the roads conditions improved and the more comfortable I became pulling my camper trailer...alias a'la "stud-hut". The hut and I cruised to St. Louis by 7:00 pm on the 16th. I felt so comfortable that I kept on driving...for 33 hours! By 4:30 pm on the 17th I was camped with the wintering Manatees in Blue Springs, Florida! I was also wasted and over dosed on caffeine...buzz! Sleep cured most of my aliments, by the 18th I was almost back to normal...almost, some things just take longer to recover.

...the 19th found me in an abandoned construction lot in Sarasota waiting to set up my display for the first of 6 Howard Allan Events shows I am scheduled to do over the next 6 weeks. I shared the lot with dozens of other fellow wandering artists that evening. I slept very soundly in the 'Hut until 4:00 am when I was up and getting ready for the 10:00 am show opening. Sales went well, folks bought my new painted pots. By 7:30 pm on Sunday I was back in the 'Hut grilling fresh fish and scallops...damn fine! I slept very soundly that night too. The next morning found me searching for supplies...thank you Ms. GPS!

...I am now sitting in the middle of the great central Florida prairie called Kissimmee. Do not ask me where it is, I could not tell you how to get here...neither can the Florida park service either evidently. When the downloaded address from the info given by the Park Service is punched into Ms. GPS you will be directed far out into the great Kissimmee Prairie...there is no camp ground there, just prairie. If you choose to ignore your omniscient GPS and follow the very few and very battered brown Park Service signs that can be found, you will eventually be lead down flat narrow blacktops, then to long straight dusty gravel roads, through a gate, past an insignificant sign that points the general direction to "Camping". At this point abandon all instincts of survival and stay with the road for 5 more miles, off in the distance you will see some trees and what looks like the last remaining outpost of civilization...it is, you have found Kissimmee Prairie Preserve State Park and the camp ground you have been searching for the past hour.

...the vistas here remind me of western South Dakota...flat and void of almost any human presence, the sky and circling horizon make you feel small and unimportant. I ran under that sky down a sandy trail for over an hour that evening before turning back for the security of my camper. I saw many of the same birds I see in South Dakota when I run on the gravel roads there. There were wintering Robins, singing Meadowlarks, noisy crows and small White Tail deer along the trail. There were also unfamiliar species of wildlife whose homes I was intruding into. The Vultures and Hawks paid me little attention as they went on their evening search for supper. The small Herons and Ibis scarcely bothered to look up from their muck probing. The alligators either paid me absolutely no attention or exploded for deeper water as I ran past. Yes they do have 'gators here...and they ain't small either! The smallest I saw was eight feet long, the largest was pushing 10 feet in length. I assume they eat what ever they can catch...I didn't stop long enough to find out.

...tonight I am dining on fresh local avocado, tomatoes, garlic, onions, cucumber, basil...I made Gazpacho soup! I bought some fresh vegetables from a road side stand along the Cracker Highway some where. After I bought them I made a sandwich with some of the ingredients and had a beer in my trailer...damn fine! When my beer and sandwich were gone I returned the plastic bags and an icy cold beer to the gentleman with the veggie stand. My Spanish was as good as his English...I offered the beer, he smiled and pointed at a bag of fresh oranges, we shook hands and both nodded. He waved at me as I drove off...I smiled and waved back. After my run I had real "fresh squeezed" orange juice...remember the pop called Orange Crush? That's what this juice tasted like, only it's good for me! I squeezed/drank half the bag. Oh yeah, I also had some grilled ribs...but who cares.

...it is now the next morning and the air is damp, the skies grey, it feels like rain maybe. On my morning stroll to the dumpster in my pj's drinking my espresso, I visited with some of my fellow campers of this isolated oasis. Most seem to have been here before and only smile and nod when I mention my convoluted journey here. Their reply is usually "Yeah, but it was worth wasn't it?" Yes it was...but don't ask me how I got here.

'Tis the season...

...of good cheer and hazardous travel conditions. The roads can be slippery, the temps can plummet and blended diesel fuel needs to be found. I have traveled to three shows since early November without mishap of any kind...thank you God. I just returned from a show in Gillette, Wyoming. The drive across South Dakota and eastern Wyoming is something I look forward too, if the weather cooperates, it did. The landscape is one of open horizon in all directions. I cannot help but feel small in such spaces. I gain perspective and am inspired to put those images and feelings on my pots some how. The drive through the Black Hills is also inspiring. There the snow seems like a gentle blanket, not the torn and ripped remnants it can be on the open plains.

The return drive from the energy rich town of Gillette, Wyoming takes you through Moorcroft, across vast vistas to the Key Hole Park area, then to Sundance and into Spearfish, South Dakota...if the interstate is open. One more than one occasion I have been stranded in Gillette because of bad winter weather and a closed interstate. On this trip I had only the cold north west wind, falling darkness and a little blowing snow to contend with. Several hours later I and a friend arrived at the Elk Creek Lodge in Piedmont, South Dakota. There we shared a great meal, relaxing conversation and much needed laugher after the drive...thanks Earl. The longer I continue to do these shows, the more important the friends made at the shows become and less so the money. Ha!...don't get me wrong the money is important too...I'm just gaining more of that perspective I eluded too earlier.

The following day found us in Whitewood at the local family restaurant for breakfast. I love local restaurants and the folks that frequent them. Usually this place has only a few older ranchers in when I stop. They are like old codgers every where, giving each other and the waitress an equally hard time over a cup of Joe and their "usual" breakfast. Today was Sunday so the place was busy with families and couples coming for a late breakfast after church...the place was packed with young and old alike. The older folk were doing their Sunday visiting over coffee and the younger folk were chasing each other around the tables before their pancakes came...I didn't see a old codger in sight!

The drive to Deadwood took us over a back road of freshly covered snow...it truly was a beautiful morning. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live in this country and how my pots might reflect that change...maybe I could become one of those gentlemen of leisure at the restaurant. The visit to a shop in Deadwood went well and pots were left...again, thank you Earl.

The remainder of the day was spent on what I can only call "another adventure with Earl". We had stayed at a friends' house while they were away at other shows. Some how between going to Deadwood and coming back we had managed to lock ourselves out of the house...we had no key to get back in! I spent the better part of an hour trying to break into the house while Earl walked around the hill in the cold trying to get reception on her phone. I made a very poor burglar, Earl eventually had better luck than I did and a key was located next door. By that time were both freezing our butts off from standing outside in the cold...the heat inside the house felt great! Our next dilemma was trying to figure out how to start the washer and dryer...damn, since when did you need to be a rocket scientist to wash a few sheets? The two of us did manage to overcome that problem without any outside assistance. After a hot latte we were off across the plains of South Dakota in the snow and dark to our respective homes...again without mishap...again, thank you God.

As I finish this, the weather here in Bushnell has once again turned colder, the wind is picking up and the snow is blowing...after all,'tis the season.

Season's end...

...almost an entire year has gone by since I first considered traveling south to Florida and escaping some of the cold and grey that the year-round residents of eastern South Dakota must endure. That initial 2009 maiden voyage was a success in many ways. Enough of a success that I have signed up and been accepted to 6 shows in 2010...count'm six shows! The effort of throwing, firing, glazing and painting pots for six consecutive shows is more than a little daunting. Hell, it is down right scary. I am so excited to get on the road I can hardly stand it. I still have a month and a half of shows here in South Dakota and Wyoming to do, so the task of making those many hundreds of pots will have to wait and my excitement contained.

My 2009 summer shows went well, I sold pots, I met new people and I experienced new things. I also experience some old things in new ways. I rediscovered tent camping, I rediscovered parts of the Black Hills and I discovered camping in a camper...way cool! I drove to eastern Indiana in mid-September and picked up my new Bachelor-Pad-On-Wheels. It was an 800 mile trip one way. On the return trip I got to know my new camper trailer by staying in it for 2 nights. I instantly loved the whole experience. After I got the little 17 foot camper home, I lived in it for the remainder of September. At the end of the month I pulled it out to the Black Hills of South Dakota and did my first show with it. For the next 10 days I was independent, self reliant...an explorer with my own microwave and refrigerator. Unfortunately I lacked the four-wheeled drive vehicle to pull me up and down the predicted snow and ice covered roads, so I made a hasty retreat back to Bushnell.

My new camper now sits lonely and winterized beside my garage, waiting for it's chance to discover the blue skies, bright sun and glorious warmth of Florida this February. I hope to pack up my van with pots, my camper with supplies, my GPS with a very southernly address and escape the grey and glum of eastern South Dakota by mid-February. My first Florida shows will start the 20th and 21st of February and run for consecutive weekends through March. If I get organized and my act together, the new Florida Show Schedule should be up soon on the website. I have a very patient friend that is doing all this linking-website-magic for me. She tells me that any interested party can "subscribe" to this blog and get email reminders when I write something of importance...how cool is that! Until then, stay warm and happy!

New Blogging

New blogging will be in effect as of 11/1/09. Check back often for updates!

...there is a button to touch on my GPS marked “Go Home”. I had not used that button since early February. When the time came to finally use it, I had mixed feelings about actually touching it. That one touch would mark an end to my Florida adventure...an ending too many things. I did not want the warm temperatures to end, I did not want the bright sunshine to end and I did not want the freedom of wearing only flip-flops, shorts and tee-shirts to end. But I knew it was time to leave and get my butt home and working. I canceled out of the last show in Hyde Park in Tampa because of my low inventory. I was also reluctant to find my way back to South Dakota because of another “potentially dangerous spring snow storm”...oh joy! ...my first night on the return trip home was spent in High Falls, Kentucky...or maybe Georgia, hard to tell sometimes. The area was very depressed economically. High Falls’ only saving grace was the falls and the State Park which shares its name. I stayed in a local motel with a few other folks, ate great barbequed ribs at the joint next door and explored the State Park in a light rain. I plan to return to Florida next year with a small, but well equipped camper trailing behind my van, so State Parks had taken on a new meaning for me. For twenty bucks I could call High Falls State Park my home for a night next year! The park was a beauty, spring was just returning to the area. There were blooming wild flowers, shrubs and small trees giving color to hilly landscape of the park. The park is remote and isolated, it would be a great place to spend a few days anytime...I would come back just for the ribs! ...I spent the next day on and off the busy interstate. I stopped and checked out a couple of RV dealers... “Yeas sir, we could hook that beauty up to your van riiight now!” Even with a southern accent, a salesman’s pitch is just a pitch...I drove away with just my van. At some point I drove across the Cumberland River a couple of times. The last found me well off the busy interstate and in another economically depressed area...this time in Aurora, Kentucky...or maybe it was Missouri, hard to tell most of the time. I stopped there to eat again.. barbeque again. This time it was barbequed chicken prepared to the point of perfection! If you’re ever in Aurora, Kentucky don’t pass up the only café open. I spent the night just outside of St. Louis in a “quaint” little motel. It was late, I was tired and the quaint odor didn’t even phase me. ...day 3 on my homeward bound journey took me across central Missouri and Iowa. I stopped for breakfast and fuel in a small town I can’t even remember the name of. I will not forget the small café or the “singing” waitress! The little place was full with gatherings of older, silver haired ladies having their one egg, one piece of toast, one sausage and several cups of coffee...and lots of gossip. The service was slow and the food did not leave a positive impression. The karaoke singing waitress made up for it all! I was served my forgettable meal and dreary coffee by a waitress sporting a headset-microphone singing “Satan Sheets”...her CD was for sale at the door. I sang Satan Sheets for miles afterwards. ...I am home now, settled in for yet another spring snow storm. I’m glad to be home for many reasons...I will miss Florida for many reasons too. My boundaries were expanded, new experiences experienced and new memories made. I hope to be back to Florida and do the same next year.

Life's a Beach

...and I am on it and I love it. I could only smile and chuckle to myself as I sat on the jetty at Ponce Inlet watching the surf roll in and the beach fade into the distance. The weather forecast for South Dakota called for 1 to 2 feet (yes feet!) of snow in the western part of the state with winds approaching 100 (yes 100!) miles per hour! The late March snow storm was supposed to roll east across the state and bring rain, snow, cold and wind to my side of South Dakota as well. Sitting on the warm rocks along the jetty, listening to the rolling waves beneath my feet and watching the surfers ride the white crests of foam in the distance made the mid-western storm seem alien to me. I have discovered that the ocean, time and distance have a strange relationship to one another. Minutes, hours and even days can be lost to, spent on or simply consumed by the ocean. The shear size of the ocean makes all things relative. It feels similar to the vast open spaces that this flat-lander calls home, yet the ocean eats up distance like no South Dakota prairie or wheat field ever could. Countless waves roll across the water endlessly, yet out of this endlessness will appear a small flock of pelicans or gulls. They will materialize out of nowhere, pass before my eyes, and then fade into the distance as fast as they appeared.

...I spent 4 days at a beach near Venice after my last show in Jupiter. There I discovered that becoming a full time beach bum is a career worth pursuing. My day on the beach would start around mid-morning. I would first have to thread my way through the huddles of shark’s teeth seeking tourists near the public beach. After I had dodged most of the down turned heads I would run several miles up the beach, almost to the next public beach, but not into the next beach’s huddling masses. There I would cool off in the Gulf and proceed to do my own version of the Shark’s Tooth Shuffle in relative privacy. I would either walk along the surf’s edge and try to grab the occasional tooth before it rolled back into the deeper water or simply squat in the surf and wait for the water to do the work and bring the teeth to me. I found that both approaches had their benefits. Shuffling allowed you to cover more ground, and in theory allowed you to see more teeth,...but you had to be constantly racing ahead to new virgin territory before the next guy got there. Squatting assured that any new teeth that washed ashore directly around you were yours and yours only...but only if you defended your area of squat from any interlopers. After 4 days of using both techniques extensively, I can say with certainty that dumb luck is the best and most reliable approach to employe when looking for ancient shark’s teeth...and beer. After what were apparently several hours or even whole afternoons of squatting or shuffling, I would run back down the beach, once again cool off in the Gulf, and then locate my cooler of beach bum food stuffs. My small cooler contained one bottle of water, smelly blue cheese, dry Italian sausage, crusty bread...and two ice cold beers! My next hours were spent emptying the cooler, working on my tan, watching the tourists shuffling by and planning out my next days menu...tough work if you can get it.

...my zip-lock bag is only partially filled with those ancient shark’s teeth and the top of my head is now very tan from the days on that beach. My mind’s eyes is filled to overflowing with visions, sounds, smells, tastes and textures of those 4 days. Enough for a life time? No, only a beginning...a beach bum’s job is never done.

Florida Show Experiences

I've been in Florida long enough now to do 2 shows, eat plenty of wonderful sea food, get used to the idea of flip-flops being “shoes” and even develop the start of a tan on the top of my head. All in all, it has been an excellent beginning to my Florida adventure.

My first exposure to the Florida show circuit was in the Gulf Coast town of Sarasota just south of Tampa. I was able to stay with some fellow snow-bird artists in Venice who held my hand through my first show...thank you Bob and Ruth! When I got to Venice on Friday afternoon Bob took me to the beach just 10 minutes from the house. We walked along a sand beach listening to the surf and picking up ancient shark's teeth. How cool was that! I found a couple of small teeth and was thrilled. When we returned to the house a boy from next door brought over a whole box full of them, some were several inches long...I felt humbled. He gave me the pick of the box and I added another tooth to my tiny collection.

I was a “newbie” artist at the Sarasota show and the other artists around me took me under their wing, making my first experience very pleasant and enjoyable. The customers were very receptive to my pots, the comments encouraging and the sales were good. My booth was directly across from Barnacle Bill's...thank you God! I had fresh sea food just mere steps away and I ate it both days...the waiters knew me as “that potter across the street”...they delivered! The “winter” weather was spectacular with temps in the 50's in the morning and the 70's in the afternoon. I have discovered that the folks of Florida have a very narrow range of comfort when it comes to temperature. It was either “too cold” or “too hot”. Come on folks, the sun was shining, the temperature was above zero and there was no snow in sight...what more could a South Dakota boy want in February?!

My next show was in Stuart on the Atlantic Coast. The town of Stuart was much like Sarasota in many ways. The main street did feel older, more quaint and much brighter colored. Orange stucco buildings with purple trim, old clapboard tenements with aqua painted siding and lime green accents...they all made me smile. The people were smiling too as they walked by on Saturday morning as I was having breakfast at Maria's. Maria's is an old family restaurant that had just moved locations after 27 years. Saturday morning was their first day open at the new downtown location. I sat outside under the canopy and enjoyed my Greek omelet with goat cheese, rye toast and wonderful strong coffee in the morning sun. I watched Cattle Egrets and Ibis's fly over as I ate in the warm sun...life is good! I also discovered my first Banyan tree. Impressive and awe inspiring is not an apt description. When I was young I climbed trees like any other kid, now I'm an older kid and it was all I could do to keep myself from exploring the huge branches that stretched over my head in all directions. I could have lived in that tree! I had customers tell me there is a road in Stuart that is canopied for a mile with the giant Banyan trees.

The sales in Stuart were consistent with the Sarasota sales and I was happy. The customers remarked on how nice it was to see something new, on the quality of the pots and on how reasonably priced the pots were. People seemed to be spending less on the high-end pieces of art, but still willing to buy lower-end pieces. Other artists I talked to had that same sense. There were some beautiful paintings at this show that reflected the sea and the shore. They had bright vibrant colors and used the intense Florida sunlight in a way that the landscape painters of South Dakota cannot.

My next show will be Jupiter along Juno Beach on the 14th and 15th of March. I have been told the show stretches for almost a mile along the Atlantic Ocean...I can't wait to experience it!

On my way...

...was a long day on the road with over 1000 miles logged. My shows in recent years had not taken me very far south of South Dakota. So the drive through Kansas, Missouri and into Kentucky was a new experience for me. When I left Bushnell that morning I experienced cold temperatures, snowbanks up to my shoulders and strong winds out of the northwest. As I drove through one state after another, my concerns and complaints about the cold and grey of eastern South Dakota were forgotten. Replacing them with landscapes free of snow was a joy to me and look...the sun was even shining!! By the time I refueled outside of Kansas City the temperature was in the 60’s and the clerk at the truck stop was calling me “Hon”...I loved it!

...my discovery of the GPS system made driving stress free and entertaining. Finding food, fuel, and information was now just a few touch screen clicks away. I have yet to name the sexy sounding lady that calmly tells me where, when and how soon I have to turn in order to safely navigate my way to Florida...we have only recently meet after all. The only time she mildly chastised me is when I mixed up one right from the other, or simply didn’t trust her and chose to drive off on my own. She would express her disappointment in me by gently reminding me she was “recalculating” and lead my back to the one true path...I love her.

...I was high on life without cold and snow, I was excited about being someplace new and different, I was looking forward to new experiences...I was cruising on the interstate of life!