Tie a rope around it and hold on
So, yesterday was a bit off the map.
A lunch with Lynette turned into a rescue of Lynette, who all but collapsed at the Iowa Medical Board with a migraine. Handily I was just down the street, and at a place with internet connection, so I worked out where the hell the medical boards are (they hide them, and you have to be clever) and where to park so I could whisk her away in my chariot to our house. I alerted Dan that we had a migraine patient in transit, so when we arrived he had his office windows blacked out and the spare bed prepped. We settled her down for a nice dark nap, and the two of us ran off to West Street Deli for lunch instead.
The only trouble was that now we had Lynette in Ames, her car in Des Moines, and both ultimately belonged in Washington, Iowa. For those of you who do not grok Iowa geography, that would be this:
The drive from A to B is 169 miles, or 2.5 hours. Even under normal circumstances this is a bit of a commitment, but with a seven year-old who has school in the morning and a me whose lower back was already angry about the drive to and from Des Moines (note how short that is from Point A in reference), it wasn’t even a scenario we could theoretically entertain. And there was no way we were letting her into the drivers seat of anything but a bed, so Plans Had To Be Made.
I’m a damn fine hand at plans, but the Queen of All Plans is my mother, and so after an afternoon of phone calls, I found her, and Operation Lynette Iles, Relay For Life was engaged. My mother used to live in Washington, but now lives in Ottumwa (located on the map below that blue line to Washington) and could easily meet us half-way and ferry Lynette and her car the remainder of the way. The only fly in the ointment is that my mother had her knee replaced a few weeks ago and is still not much for a car, either. But my mother came through with The Plan: she would drive with my stepfather to Oskaloosa, have dinner at Smokey Row and recover her knee, then once we arrived would drive to Washington as Brian drove Lynette’s car, then would come back with some care as to not hurt herself, but she wouldn’t be driving so this wouldn’t be so hard. And this is exactly what we did, and because the Queen of All Plans was involved, it went off very well. We actually had a great time. Anna rode in the front seat from Des Moines with me (Lynette passed out in the back seat of her car as Dan drove) as we listened to her iPod, and then she danced around Smokey Row, which truly is a wonderful coffee shop. We ate dinner there, too, then caravanned back, commenting as we went what an unexpected but fun adventure it turned out to be.
However, that was last night, and now it is the morning after, and now I am wandering around I house I meant to tidy days ago, with dishes all over and mail opened and unopened on every available surface, with laundry still half-done, with food in the fridge that needs to be prepared before it goes bad–ah, reality. Such bliss. And there are the fifteen unopened emails in my inbox, the one hundred blog entries in my google reader, the so-close-I-can-taste-it draft of story waiting in Scrivener. Then there is my body, which keeps saying, "Hey, you know, just go back to bed." That, alas, is very not an option. Tonight Anna has piano, and game night at school, and we’re overdue for her bath. . . ah, glamor.
But I’m drinking Smokey Row coffee (blueberry crumble! Mmm.) and listening to Lady Gaga (I know, I know), and the cats are snoring, and I don’t have an appointment until 2:30. I won’t get everything done on my list that I want done, but I can make a significant dent. Mostly I’m still feeling pretty rosy that while the Universe had to hand a friend of mine a fuck-you card, it also made sure me and mine were there for the handoff. That’s pretty cool, and can overcome quite a bit. Even unfolded laundry.