Driving Along In My Automobile

Today, I had plant deliveries that took me out of my own space and up through three counties (not that far of distance in Florida) and down some country roads and through some little towns with one school and a couple of gas stations, a drug store and a diner all on the main highway going north.

When I think of places like China and Japan or New York or Chicago, where so many, many people live in closeness to each other, I am glad to be in this semi-wilderness we call rural America where one can still drive for 80 miles or more and not see another person other than those who are passing in vehicles going the other direction or the same way. Left or right, the view is cows, horses, fields, rivers, pastures and space.
Love,
Betty

That's why I love to go back to my hometown, Betty. It is the setting for Keechie,
and there are places where, if you squint your eyes just so, you can
imagine the area just as it was when the Native Americans were the only
inhabitants.

When my dad took us on vacation when I was a kid, he never took the
"fast" route - he always went via US 431 through Alabama, then 231 into
Florida. We learned to appreciate the small towns, the farms and the
scenery that you don't see from the interstate.

One of the silly kid games we played was to wave at people who were
sitting on their porches. Without fail, they always waved back!

I grew up in the city, but I am a country girl. I love to drive past farms, hills, woods. There is a place on the highway on our way up to the woods after going through the city of Wausau, where before one are trees as far as one can see. That is where everyone says they start to feel the peacefulness of the north country. To me, it is the place where stress leaves and pure peace enters my being. But I am not the only one who says this.

Love, Carol

I'm just the opposite of all you folks. I love cities and the bigger the better. Hate the country at night, but that dates back to WWII and I've never shaken that dislike of darkness. With a national park starting within the city limits there is plenty of wild and sometimes dangerous country on our doorstep, but I'm at home when I can hear traffic on the streets, sirens, car doors slamming, trains whistling at the crossing, motorcyclists revving their pipes and see bright lights when the sun goes down.

I wearied of the city.So much confusion everywhere that it was difficult to enjoy one's surroundings. Out here, the night is so dark that you can see the stars clearly and the other senses are heightened. Peace and quiet? Not really. Owls hoots fill the air at night, and by day the birdsong is almost deafening. Not to mention all the other critters. Frogs and crickets make lots of noise when It's wet.

Coyotes howling at night, and hawks screeching by day. The elk bugle and call back and forth as do the cows. It's noisy out here, but it is a peaceful noise. Seldom a plane flies overhead, and occassionally a car passes. I can live with this type of noise.

When the nights are dark and you hear no sounds from other humans, that's when men with cutthroat razors in hand are sneaking up on you.

That's comforting.

Dear Dick,
I bet those men are either in the closet or under the bed. I had some wierdo's living under my bed when I was just a child. They had big butcher knives. I imagine that cut-throat razors are an advancement to their craft. No matter how many times I peed on that thin mattress and it dripped down upon their heads, they never made a sound and in the morning they were gone - where ever it is that men with sharp butcher knives that live in closets or under beds go at the break of dawn. But, you can bet that my feet did not touch that floor all night, no matter what! I imagine that is what saved me from their evil plots. You should wear your combat boots to bed. I bet that would fix them!

Love,
Betty

You may be right, Betty. But those people who where skulking around all those years ago were wearing German uniforms and all those still alive are old guys now. Still, the memories never fade.

Dear Dick,
I know what you mean. I am glad that my guys with razors never wore a uniform. I slept with the light on until I was 40.
Now, I am so mean that the razor guys are afraid I am lurking under their bed.

Love,
Betty

I hear you Dick -- if I am sleeping, I actually wake up when it gets too quiet. Give me noise, and I can sleep anywhere. Even in an office full of people (funny though, they don't appreciate it the same way that I do!).

Tonight, though, I hit the back roads with my camera and took a couple of cool pics, which if I happen to have my cable in my bag, just might get loaded on here. I am in New Brunswick this week, and so there are a whole bunch of cool neat little places to explore.

Betty I am having a really hard time thinking of you as mean.

Dear Pam,
Squint your eyes and you can see me over there in the bushes...the one with the red eyelids and (well, I still have teeth, it does not matter what color they are) the hairy legs.

Those men with the cut throat razors have chased me for years, and yet, here I am with hairy legs. It is a good thing that they are half blind or they would have found me.
I think my twitch is going away!

Love,
Betty