Google Ways

Am I ready to go for the efficiency of zooming past all the good stuff? For sure, yesterday's drive found me more interested in the destination than the journey. I am hungry for sister time. Hungry enough to join my most beloved sis in life of caring for her geriatric, heroine addled husband (she married a man old enough to be our father) and one of our alcohol demented sisters in a small, 3 bedroom suburban/now-urban house. Most of our healing miricle has been accomplished on nuetral ground in the 1800 miles between our two homes. We have had memorable moments in my home, but the times I have tried to sit with her in her daily life have triggered me to PTSD Hell. Still. . . I crave the medicine of rambling with her head on a neighboring pillow. I am worried on how worn she sounds these days. Caring for two geriatric patients while working to support them financially is no small stress, even with all the support a village can provide. Her current village cannae provide a geezer sitter while she takes a vacay with the dark wolf of the family.

I still use a Dumb Phone on the road for the sake of my field work. Current Smart Phone designs are too fragile to survive a slide down a rocky hillside or a swamp slide. Yea, I know. There are covers that will take it, but their "compact design" is too cumbersome for my personal pocket comfort. There are times I could wish for the Smart Phone convenience as I drive, especially when looking for a motel to land in for the night. There are lots of good apps for that, even on the driving routes that stump the Smart Phones. I am frequently amused by watching Smart Phone users trying to find my scenic routes on on their Smart Phones. Hey, guys, I've been paid to play "Stump the Search Engine." I am better than most at it. Still, once on the scenic by-way, the Smart Phone GPS locators can usually find you near enough to provide on-line commercial data. Usually.

Working with what I have on this Sunday morning, I have mapped and noted the Google route on my old world notepad. As I work my way toward packing, my quiet voice whispers to take the route of fewest stops. The Puppet Shows inside my head are reminding me that I flipped-off a Peace Officer on my last freeway romp. What did he name that offense again? No matter for now. I can look it up. The ticket is in Boy Toy's glove box. In my distracted state, I mistook him for *just* another aggressive driver in the still booming Houston metroplex. The sad part is that it was a Louisina patrolman. The Houston boom has jumped the State Line by the Arf measure. I don't handle Zoomway stresses well, but they are usually less stressful on a Sunday.

Prayers in progress. Still wearing my Rose rosary. The way it dangles recklessly in everything I do keeps me aware of my fragile state.

Note to self: No high-speed bird flipping for Peace Officers. They's *just* trying to keep peace in the chaos. It's their job.