I may have mentioned on my travel page that I have a gypsy soul. Blame it on my Irish ancestors and their wayfaring ways. Whatever the reason, I can't stand to sit still for to long. A couple months pass by and the yen to take to the open road hits me like a sledgehammer. Only problem is, traveling doesn't like me.
I discovered this when the husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. We planned a week's stay at Niagra Falls. It was going to be great. We even had saved the top of our wedding cake and packed it in a cooler, hauling it across the border with us. Yes, I remembered the cake top. It was my purse, with all our money in it, that I forgot. Only, I didn't just forget it. I left it hanging off the back of a chair. In a restaurant. In Buffalo where we had stopped to eat. Almost four hours later, and only after pumping a tank full of gas, I realized what I had done. Thank God, for honest store managers and UPS overnight.
Not every person I've encountered on our travels has been honest. During a visit to my brother, my husband had his wallet stolen. Goodbye, credit cards and cash. That was the same trip which saw tornadoes striking the small town my brother lives in. While the skies darkened and the wind howled, we huddled inside his house watching the newscast. The weatherman expressed shock that twisters that had come calling. First time in almost twenty years. I wasn't surprised. Experience has taught me to expect no less. Like the time we were in San Diego, driving to the airport to catch our flight home, when we heard that a certain airline had pulled all their jets due to safety concerns. Guess what plane we were booked on?
My in-laws invited us to St. George Island for a visit when my son was only nine months old. The island was gorgeous. Right up until a tropical storm hit. Who knew that sand flying in high winds could sting so badly when it hits your shins? Halfway through our trip September 11th occurred. We weren't so concerned with the weather after that.
Yes, we have sashayed across the U.S. and Canada, dancing to the tune of lost, stolen, or mislaid money, freakishly bad weather and waylaid plans. Twice, we have made trip reservations only to have my father end up in the hospital on the eve of our departure. Once, with a car wreck and once with a heart attack. Disneyland isn't fun when my heart and mind are stuck back in a hospital room. The reason I am sharing our misadventures with you? We leave tomorrow on our next jaunt. So, if you happen to be out and you see a red Matrix drawing near, you might want to seek shelter. I travel under a rain cloud.