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Nothing Like a Good Road Trip

March 17, 2005

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. A show from way back, just over a year ago, around Christmas time in New York. Filled with all kinds of nostalgia, and naturally the words to "In My Life" got me thinking about things and I concluded that I really need to get away for a while. Routine is good. A blessed thing, really. There's something about routine that calms one's spirit and makes a special occasion of things like beef stroganoff or a package in the mail. But routines turn into ruts if you're not paying attention. The windows have been closed tight for months now and it's time I got some air.

So I made pistachio cake on Sunday afternoon and sat down with Mr. Sundberg and told him I'm going on an adventure. "How about next week?" he said and I thought he was kidding and then he smiled and asked for more cake. He suggested I go to my parents' cabin for a week or so and bring along some books and a notebook and ten pounds of flour and have a quiet time. Since he's between trips and the kids have homework and violin and a few days off for the Easter holiday, the idea makes sense. So I said, Now you're talking. I'm off tomorrow for seven days in the north woods. The cabin is heated and the freezer is full and there's a radio near the fireplace. Things will be fine.

I promised the kids I'd be back a day or two before Easter. They asked, "Will there be ham?" Yes, I told them. Ham with pineapple and rolls and potatoes with cheese and glazed carrots and lemon cake. Mr. Sundberg packed a flashlight and a blanket and a box of Ritz crackers and some bottled water in the back of the car. "Nothing like a good road trip," he said. "But you can't be too careful."

Careful, schmareful. Look out North Woods. Seems I've got myself some time.

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