I'm home in Indy for the weekend, or most of it anyway. I got stuck at the day job for a half day yesterday before getting on the road, then had to run the heater for most of the eight-hour drive because the Crown Vic got a little too warm.
I got home around nine and caught up the wife and my super puppy, Butters. The house looks really good, as does Josie. She updated me on the local gossip and we discussed a few personal/financial matters. I was glad to be in the old house with the old dog and old wife. Very soothing, although ultimately fleeting.
Oh well, such is life.
I've written a bit about the contrasts between rural and metro living, but I really, really forgot how vulgar metropolitan Indianapolis is. It is so fucking loud. The town is extra packed with 500 fans this weekend, clogging the streets and bars.
As tough as the day job gets, I am grateful for it because it delivered me to the North Pole to enjoy the spring and summer. Don't get me wrong; I miss Josie and the kids, my mom, my sister and her boys, Starbucks, White Castle, Butters, Shapiro's Delicatessen, Iaria's, Colts and Pacers games on TV, Rita Eads and Mary Valeria Springman. But the actual bare essentials of North Pole life -- steady breezes off the Great Lakes, deer, eagles, skunks, no traffic, ridiculously nice and laid back people and all that water -- are terrific.
I'm about half way through my rounds. I saw Mom, Emy, Phil and the boys this morning, missed my Grandma Eads at her house and am about to deliver some Michigan scratchoffs to my generate gambler Grandma Springman. After that, I plan to connect with the noted military scholar James Tuttle and perhaps take in a party at one of our old classmate's homes. Tonight will be Josie and Josh time again, then on the road again tomorrow.
Cross your fingers for my poor old Crown Vic.