On the Way To Grandpa's

(Written on Saturday)

Dad and I just finished a twilight walk around several blocks of Grandpa Pitz’s neighborhood. It’s a quiet neighborhood at this time of evening; the houses are close and small and look cozy with lamplight behind their opaque curtains. We’re just doing a lot of nothing, but it gives me lots of time to think and observe, and it’s not boring because everything is just a little different from home.

We arrived here in Jonesville, NC at my great-grandpa’s house at about 3:30 or so, after about six hours of driving. I spent most of the time splitting my head with yawns, but it wasn’t till we’d neared our destination that I actually went to sleep. I hate to sleep when I’m traveling because I’m afraid I’ll miss something, if nothing but perfectly good car time staring out the window :) Before I finally napped, I stared out the window, read passing signs, read Maya Angelou, lost an earring in the backseat, and listened to a Russian language tape.

We saw some interesting signs, including one for “Scratch Gravel Road” and “Hungry Mother State Park.” But the one that arrested my attention was a traffic warning that read,

“Speed limits enforced by aircraft”

Instantly I pictured B52 bombers screaming over the interstate, decimating unruly speeders! Actually, we saw a less-threatening-looking helicopter hovering over the highway while we stood in the Wendy’s parking lot after lunch, so I expect they have a more humane way of handling things.

The best part of the drive was when we glimpsed the hazy edges of the Smokies and the valley swathed in mist as it started to rain. Only about a bucketful of drops fell splattered the windshield, but it was great!! The smell of it was so clear and clean-- I had to just lay on my pillow and drink it like a cup of water.

We didn't have a lot of view of the mountains, so soon after that I fell asleep, and the next thing I remember was Dad’s hand nudging me awake as we drove into Elkin. There was the new Walmart and a twisty road passing houses with wonderful windows that inspired my imagination, and then Jonesville, with streets and houses vaguely familiar. And then Grandpa’s.

Grandpa was pretty tired, and none of us had much to say. We sat on the orange couch for a while (which is not a very loving couch, I have to say) next to window I fondly remember sleeping under on a warm night when I think there were fireflies. But I can’t remember for sure. The fireflies might have been somewhere else. The house seemed so lonely that I didn’t really mind the company of a slim brown spider that wandered out to say hello :)