This is a shot of us gassing up Eddie and emptying the pups of all the stuff we want them to leave as mementos about noon yesterday.
The title of this post is from an old Cat Stevens song. It's appropriate for today, because we are about 250 miles from that convenience stop as I type--now in Atlantic, Iowa, which is definitely somewhere. Based upon how much it rained last night, I can see why they named it "Atlantic". And, as you can see from the detail shot which closes this entry, we truly are, and will continue to be more and more, Miles from Nowhere.
Reporting from the road, this is your loyal (and still damp) correspondent, Rick.
(note the small sign just above the big FAT DOGS logo)
6 comments:
Enjoy the journey!
Ah but Rick, we're never miles from nowhere if we're always at home with ourselves! I love Cat Steven's music and now I'm humming that song in my head...
Enjoy the vastness of your journey!
Hahahaha! Rick, you're a riot! I needed a good laugh. Safe travels!
Kate--His music was central to me during troubling times as a young man, so I can easily have his music in my head, and I love it no less today than I did 30 years ago.
I'm so with you in the thought of being at home with ourselves. If one is able to do so, everything changes. There is no longer a need to run toward -- or away from, for that matter -- anything.
It's one of the goals of this time away from day-to-day pressures: to recall and redecorate my inner home.
Thanks for visiting!
I thought it said EAT DOGS!
Have a wonderful time. Your cottage and its history sound soooooo magical!
Hope Roly is feeling better.
Yikes, I thought it said eat dogs too!
I love traveling, because it makes coming home even sweeter.
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