Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

It hurts to type. Before I got on the road today, I gassed up the car. I then pulled up to the convenience store to buy a soda. I am incapable of road tripping without a giant icy beverage at my side.

(more…)

Southwest in the Sky

Image by ReloVertigo 2014

We are almost finished with the paperwork side of the purchase end of our relocation. We have only to wait for the closing, now, which will happen in February. But I’m already looking forward to our long-term future. What will we be doing months from now? I know what I’d like to be doing. Vacation. It’s unlikely that Mr ReloVertigo will be able to take time off with me so soon. Daughter may simply have to substitute as Leisure Companion. By July, it will be sweltering along the Mississippi River. It may be a good time for a flight to a certain haunted hotel in the Rocky Mountains. Hmmm…

Big Sky Missouri

Image by ReloVertigo 2014

 

Big Sky isn’t just for Montana. As I drove north out of Missouri, the sunny blue sky was oppressive to my migrainey head.

Since we ReloVertigos left Illinois, we’ve been trying to get back. I hated Indiana with a passion so great, I don’t know that I could adequately convey it to you. I expressed the length of our residence there in terms of doing time. As in, prison. I certainly felt like an unwilling captive. I agreed to two years, and ended up doing five. See what I mean? Doing time. Three years ago, The Husband was offered a position at a different company that was coincidentally planning to build a new plant in the exact city in Illinois where we had lived. It was a scary move, but we couldn’t pass it up.

(more…)

Mississippi River on a Sunny January Morning

Image by Relovertigo 2014

 

The beauty of the sun’s reflection on the Mississippi River in the morning, viewed from Le Claire, Iowa.

It was a very tiring drive, but I managed it. My shoulder is still quite painful, but it was worth it. I’m finally here with The Husband for the first time in a week. I feel like there should be hundreds of animated heart bubbles all over this post. They appear near the middle, radiate outward, and pop at the edges. And in the middle would be a cartoon rendition of the Lovers ReloVertigo, mid-smooch.

Quite saccharine, I know. That is what happens when true loves are separated for too long. Ok. Now I’m making myself gag. But seriously, when you’ve been together as long as we have, it’s hard to be apart. Almost painful, even knowing that the payoff in the end will be what we’ve been working toward for years, it’s hard to feel the separation is worth it. That’s why these little reunions are so important. Next weekend, The Mr comes to visit me.

Peaches and Herb, anyone?

20140112-215539.jpg

20131206-215612.jpg

We Relovertigos travel a lot. When you cross the country’s highways like we do, you eventually see some odd stuff. The image above is a menu, found taped to the wall of a women’s bathroom, at a convenience store in Iowa. Which wouldn’t be so unusual, except it was posted directly across from the toilet, and could only be properly viewed while seated. I don’t know about you, Friendly Reader, but when I’m…indisposed…I’m not exactly thinking to myself, “Gee, I smell burgers. I wonder how much they go for in these parts. And if I could get fries and a drink while I’m at it.” No. That is not what I’m thinking of, at all.

In the town where I live, there is a major thoroughfare that ribbons north and south, making it fairly easy to get to opposite ends of town without much fuss. If you’re in a real hurry, you can take one of the three-digit jobbies that encircle our burgh. Tonight I was on that north-south strip, and headed for the grocery. As I tooled along, listening to my tunes, I came to a disturbing conclusion.

Driving and listening to Miserlou by Dick Dale makes me want to drive very fast, while shooting a gun in the air. Now, for my non-USA friends, I am in a part of the country where owning pretty much any kind of firearm is perfectly legal. Of course, I own no guns, and wouldn’t even let Mr ReloVertigo keep his in our home, when we first moved in together over twenty-two years ago. But that is not keeping me from the spirit of, for some bizarro-world reason, wanting to do this. Heck, I don’t own a convertible, and I’m not left handed, which would mean I couldn’t hang my arm out the window, and I’d have to shoot holes through the hard top of my beloved little car as I zoomed through town, weaving in and out of traffic. What the frack, Friendly Reader? That would not do. Not do, at all.

One of my favorite cities, in fact my favorite city of all, is Chicago. I love that it’s so big and so bold, so bad, it doesn’t need a last name. Everybody in the world knows what you’re talking about when you say, “Oh, yeah, so we were in Chicago, and blah blah blah blahdy blabbity blah.” They will simply nod and think about the Sears Tower. Yes, I know the name changed, but I’ve turned into my parents, and it’s just going to be the Sears tower until I die. Maybe I’ll be lucky like my parents were with Russia, and the name will eventually go back to what I’ve been calling it all along. It could happen. Anywho, the traffic in and around Chicago is a joy. Especially if you accidentally find yourself smack in the middle of downtown at 5:00 PM on a weekday. Let me tell you, cabbies will cut ya for a fare. Cut you off, that is. I swear that they will go zero to at least fifty across three lanes of one way traffic for a guy who looks like he might want a cab.

I should never listen to Miserlou while driving in Chicago.

I know you all have your favorite driving music. Or, even favorite music that you shouldn’t listen to while driving. I’d like to hear about that. Tell me about you!

20131121-182846.jpg

The Daily Prompt today suggested that we write in the local accent of our geographic region. That’s kind of difficult for me. I’m originally from Nebraska. That’s the accent newscasters and actors from other regions are taught to use. No accent at all. One odd quirk of being from No Accentland, though, is that when I travel to a place with a different accent, I quickly pick it up without even realizing it.

(more…)

Communication. One of the primary keys to a happy marriage. In the earlier years of the ReloVertigo marriage, we both worked very long hours, opposite shifts, and Mr ReloVertigo usually worked seven days per week. It was not unusual for us to go a week or two at a time without seeing one another, and to communicate strictly by notes left for one another on top of the television. (more…)