I saw the most adorable thing ever this morning: about half a dozen little pigs riding down the interstate in the bed of a truck, happily eating. I would probably never have guessed that this would be the most adorable thing ever, but I can assure you, it was. Their little faces…
I just wanted to follow them wherever they were going, but it’s probably just as well that my exit came up about a mile after I noticed them. Once I saw them, it was hard to want to look at anything else, which made safe driving a bit difficult.
The Mercurial Maiden and I are going out of town this weekend. We’ll be staying with her paternal grandfather and his lady, but we’ll leave early enough on Sunday to do something that she’s been wanting to do for ages: re-visit the neighborhood where we lived until she was seven years old. She wants to see the townhouse that was our home, have a meal in the diner we used to frequent, drive past her old school, etc. I can understand this. I remember, on family trips south to visit relatives, wanting to drive past the house that I remembered living in when I was little. There’s mystery there, and mists of memory. No, of course it won’t be the same, but that’s part of the point.
We may even get to the beach on Sunday, because if there’s one thing I miss about where we used to live, it’s the ability to get onto the nearest highway, just drive east, and reach the ocean in under an hour. We’ll have to play that part by ear, though, depending on time, weather, and traffic. We did spend a long weekend in the Outer Banks last month, so I’ve had my ocean fix for the year. I guess. *sigh*
We’re also gleefully looking forward to the road trip aspect of the whole thing. We’ve got our music all planned out!
This news deserves a post of its own, and in fact will probably have multiple posts when all is said and done. (Just say it, Kat. Just say it.)
Last week, my father was diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
(I keep typing the words, “His prognosis is…” then backspacing, then typing them again, then backspacing. I can’t say it. I just can’t.)
I can give you facts: this morning, he had a procedure to put in the ports for chemotherapy, and a nerve block to reduce his pain. His chemo treatments begin on Monday.
My parents live a long day’s drive away from me. I forget how long. More than eight hours, I think.
That’s enough for now. There will, of course, be more to say. Of course.