I Am Glad To Be Home

This morning I walked. It was still dark and there were 10 million stars in sky, all screaming the majesty of God. Rosy and I left a few minutes before 6:00. The sky was crystal clear blue. Every single mountain was standing at attention as the sun rose above them. God's fingerprints were everywhere. I thought it is going to be one awesome day.

Traffic was horrible, worse than it has ever been. But thankfully, it was not raining as I inched my way down the mountain and through town. It took three hours to get to school this morning. Because of a lack of supervision and Rosy's behavior, the school has said they would prefer her to be late instead of early. Maybe not that late, but I did the best I could.

I had three errands to do today. Nothing opens until 10:00. I packed up my computer and a bunch of work. I planned on going to McDonald's (my in town office) for iced tea and a couple hours of work. By the time I got to McDonald's, it was hardly worth getting out the computer, but I did anyway.

I got the first two errands done quickly and went back to thinking about it being an awesome day.

The third errand was no where close to the other two. I knew in one direction a bridge was gone and I can't go that way for now. I started another direction. I got on a traffic circle that would eventually lead me where I wanted to go. So, I thought. I got to the place I wanted to exit the circle only to find it closed for construction. No warning or sign before I got there, just closed.

I was pretty sure I knew another way. Or at least part of the way. I found the new way. I am getting good at blazing new ways. I was so pleased with myself for not only finding this alternate route, but knowing where I was the whole time. The next obstacle was a strike. It was not a large strike, about 50 people, nor violent. I don't know what they were striking, but they were not letting cars through in either direction. I turned around and went back the way from which I had come. I was not up to blazing anymore trails today.

I went to the other end of town and got on a street that I knew would take me where I wanted to go. Based on the amount of traffic and the facts that one way was closed for construction and one way was closed for a strike, it must have been the only route available.

Again, I inched along and finally got to where I was going. It was after noon. There was nothing to do but laugh.

That little errand did not take long and I headed back. I was trying to get to Rosy's school so I could pick her up at 1:30 and not have to wait until 3:30 for the bus. Again, traffic was slow. At times not moving. A man on foot walked in front of the car and then reached down like he was fixing something on the car. He walked around to my side and I barely put the window down. He said he fixed the license plate. And then asked me what I had for him. I was guessing he wanted money, but I wasn't going to give him any. I said gracias and put the window up. I guess it must have been love at first sight. For him, anyway. He began to say, in english, he loved me and was kissing the window. I was creeping along with a man kissing my window. I think it looked totally ridiculous. Don't worry, I always keep my doors locked and it was broad daylight with hundreds of people around. When I got to where traffic was moving, I sped up and he finally stopped kissing my window. He blew me a kiss and said bye-bye. I said good riddance.

I got to Rosy's school with a few minutes to spare. We headed home and I was thankful I did not have to wait until 3:30. I have found a way to get from her school out to the highway that misses a lot of traffic. Off we went and even that way was backed up today. I was thinking I might not ever get home. Rosy said if we had a motorcycle, we could weave in and out of the traffic like the other motorcycles were doing. I pictured Rosy and I on a motorcycle weaving around the stalled traffic. I laughed. So did she.

Soon we were past all the stalled traffic and really on our way home. I was glad to be home. So glad, I might not ever leave again. At least, not until 5:30 in the morning.

Terri