We left the house about 9:30 Thanksgiving morning. First stop the local coffee shop for a coffee and muffin for the road. The shop was surprisingly busy for a holiday morning – especially a day when everyone looked forward to a huge meal a few hours later – but the place is famous for its baked goods. Most people walked away with a bag full of pre-ordered goodies for the dessert table - and a cup of coffee.
Hub and I headed off on a three-hour drive (assuming minimal traffic) to my sister’s for Thanksgiving dinner. The big question was how long it would take to get through Philadelphia. We needed to drive the Schuylkill Expressway – an ironic name for a road often jam-packed with vehicles progressing at a crawl.
The drive proceeded smoothly. No traffic. I think most people traveling distances were where they wanted to be. Local traffic trekking an hour or so to reach their dinner destination had not yet clogged roads.
Almost at our destination, we encountered the first motorized vehicle usually ubiquitous on the roads – a truck.
I realized one key reason the drive had been a pleasant one. No trucks. The more trucks on the road, the more drivers (or at least this particular driver) become stressed. The larger the trucks, the more tension. Trucks run from big, to bigger, to the double whammy, all of which dwarf our small (but cute and gas efficient) Mazda. Sandwiched between monster trucks is a powerful stimulus to rising blood pressure, anxiety and a far from enjoyable trip.
We drove home Friday afternoon, detouring to meet friends at an airport hotel for dinner. Our friends spent the holiday with family in Philly and were flying home the following morning, staying at the hotel Friday night to decompress (it is exhausting spending a week with grandkids 24/7). The four of us sat at the hotel bar drinking (not me – I was the designated driver) and eating – again.
|Not our Thanksgiving turkey.|
We are home now. No travel, a return to careful eating, and a weekend sans appointments, meetings, nothing on the calendar!
Will we bore ourselves to oblivion? Will we survive?
We are looking forward to a couple of days with no pressure to accomplish anything or go anyplace, an uneventful, pleasant interlude, possible as long as we don’t listen to any 24/7 news channel, the American 21st century equivalent of mental pain and suffering. We will read. We will watch old movies, non-political, non-violent ones with easy to follow story lines. The good old days…