Bloggin' America

So now I think you’re caught up. All of that was back in June. Now it is nearing the day before departure, and I finally started this old blog. We are scheduled to leave in less than 24 hours, and I still am waiting for the day when my parents sit us down calmly and Ashton Kutcher pops out to say, “PUNK’D!” Keep going...

However, the next day was actually quite different from all the other “reclaiming fatherhood” days George had marked in the past. **SPOILER ALERT: This is where the story finally gets interesting.** George’s red Corolla pulled up to Sweet Home Junior High School promptly at three o’clock. I climbed into the Falcon (yes, like the Millennium Falcon) and was jealous to see Ray in the passenger seat with a root beer float from A & W in his hand. Keep going...

So, the initial concept of traveling was planted into our brains in late May. The subject was dropped until two weeks later when Mom and George were getting into one of their post-dinner arguments. I say “one of” them because they happened so frequently these days. And each time, they always seemed angrier and louder than the night before. Keep going...

The summers in Sweet Home generally don’t get this hot. Usually, if I wear a spaghetti-strap tank top, I still get goose bumps in the shade. We have the fog from the valley and the crispness from the Cascades to keep the air cool in the summer and the winters moderate. But today it hit 90 and that’s the point I avoid the outdoors at all cost to dodge the risk of bursting into flames. Keep going...