The Pilgrimage, Take I

The storm shutters are hung, the water turned off, the tv is unplugged and all of the doors and windows are locked down tight. The beast is also packed - tight as a tick. I don't think we could possibly fit one more thing in the trunk,

the back seat, or for that matter the front seat either. Poor little Henna was squeezed in between the sleeping bags, a suitcase and the toolbox. There was enough room for her to stand up, turn around and lay back down again. It was adequate but not the spacious accomdations to which she has grown accustomed. The only one who wasn't cramped was the driver. Of course the good news is I knew I would not be required to get behind the wheel on this trip. Not after I saw The Kid stifle a yawn and glance my direction. His expression said it all. I knew he would rather drive for 10 hours than attempt to find a place for his long legs among the camera bag, the laptop, the purse and the magazines. He opted instead for a little caffeine.

Early (well almost) yesterday morning we began what hopefully will become the annual pilgrimage to Pymatuning Lake. We have a couple of i's left to dot but I think the t's are all crossed. We should become the official residents of the "little red cottage" in two weeks.

Of course we all know it ain't over til it's over and all that jazz. But I think I hear the fat lady tuning up her vocal chords.