It’s Friday morning, 9/16. We left Texas two weeks and one day ago. This is the first experience of other than near perfect weather we’ve had the entire time.
What’s great about that is: This weekend we have no outdoor activities planned. Well, other than maybe some sightseeing in and around Chicago. But all of our beach time in Florida and a solid week of great golf in Georgia was scheduled in unbeatable weather.
Yesterday was, as I had expected, a very long day of interstate driving. We mad about 625 miles in under 13 hours, including stops for breakfast, lunch and gas. (That’s fuel, not internal gas, for you purists).
Lots of big trucks were out on the roads, but we never ran into any really heavy traffic. The worst was as we approached Chicago from Indiana, and that’s about the time the cloudy sky began spitting occasional light rain.
We worried that we might be in the middle of a downpour when it was time to set up our camper, but the rain held off until after we had everything pretty much in place. When we left the campground to go find something for supper we drove out in a light steady rain, but by the time we were back after eating it was a steady moderate rain.
Later, as we lay in bed reading, came the downpour. Could have been a lot worse!
This morning the rain continues to come and go, with low clouds and a north wind. The forecast calls for clearing later today with moderate temperatures and no further rain for the rest of the weekend.
Our daughter Amy will drive out from downtown and pick us up later this morning. I plan to post this when we get to her apartment.
I promise to then regale you with tales of our last family visit of this vacation trip over the next three days, and tempt you with stories of the meals we plan to experience. As a teaser, I’ll tell you Amy’s plans.
She tells us she’s found a really good Mexican restaurant near her apartment, and plans to continue the tradition she started in Austin that Friday night is Mexican night. Then on Saturday she’ll take us to a fantastic Italian chain that she and her husband discovered called “Bucca di Beppo’s” (literally, Beppo’s basement).
Ha! I can tell you’re salivating already! (So am I.)
But when we get home it’s going to be diet, diet, diet.