Time to blog from a bus again. Brooke and I have been on here since noon, and fortunately the ride had been fairly uneventful. We’ve done some productive things, read a little, and I took two naps to bookend the trip.
Now we’ve got less than an hour left and are driving into the last little strip of raspberry sunlight at the end of the highway.
It’s almost all black now.
We’ve had sister time for the first time in a while this weekend. Of course it was mostly about the food and the book stores, but we walked all over Chicago to do it.
We ate Chicago style pizza and enjoyed the thaw from the frozen windy barren land Chicago has been this winter. 5he sunshine lit our walks, and we bought more books than we needed.
Well, you always need more books, but we don’t really have time to read them right now. I think buying books is like saying you believe you have a future with free time where you will read them. It’s optimism in action.
We just crossed the state line into Minnesota, so it won’t be long now.
I didn’t really do much on the bus, but I look like I’ve been on one for a while. It’s the strange, horrible power of buses that it gives you a look. Not an altogether desirable look either.
I’m headed into a week entitled, “spring break” with quite a few plans and to-dos. It’s less of a break than precious years have been, but there’s something to be said for being home. Someone else will probably feed me, the laundry will just be 14 stairs away instead of a billion treacherous ones, my bed won’t squeak when I move.
The excitement builds.
I think I only brought one pair of jeans, but I have creabelis, so that’ll be fine. I packed in such a scatter brained stupor after walking around the city all day (we topped 13 miles this weekend for sure) that I’m sure I forgot something important.
All I know is I’m leaving my winter coat in Minnesota. I’ll shiver as much as I have to. I’m not wearing it again til next winter.
Ah, homeland. The sights out the window are getting more familiar by the minute.
Let the spring break commence.