Call me an angel of mercy or a glutton for punishment. Both might be true. I drove nearly 200 miles today and hardly left the Ridge.
A dear friend contacted me several weeks ago about a scheduled colonoscopy. Would I be her driver? I wrote that date on my calender. In ink. The day was fabulous.
It helped that I wasn't the one going to that particular doctor. Beyond that, however, it was comfortably warm, with bright sun and, well, very pink. Driving the Ridge, from home, through Johnston, Ward, Ridge Spring, Monetta, Trenton, Eureka was like driving through a cotton candy cloud. The peach trees are in bloom. You have to be here to believe it.
We were in Augusta traffic at mid-day, so that was easy. My friend's procedure went well, well enough that we had a late lunch of salad and a tasty pizza at the Olive Garden as we headed to the interstate and back to our pink wonderland.
Home looked good at 5:15 when I rolled through the gate. But, the day wasn't over yet. Our sister-in-law is in the hospital in Aiken and we wanted/needed to check in on her and Tal's brother. The drive to Aiken in the dusk showed me a completely different view of the Ridge, the rolling geography pronounced by the sun's low aspect and the peach trees ever so soft in the day's fading light.
Our late supper was a low key meal of oatmeal, toast (made from homemade sourdough bread) and bacon (left over from Sunday's breakfast). Delicious as it was, I sort of slept through it.
I wonder. Will I dream of the steering wheel and the eight knuckles I've had in my line of sight all day or will my dreams be sweet and tinged with pink? I'll know soon, very soon.