Home at last
Well, here I am, back at my familiar spot between the reptilian members of our family, Atvar and Muad'Dib (both uromastyx lizards), and the oversized stuffed parrot on top of the Waters family TV.
Des Moines has changed a bit in the last eight months. Streets have been re-routed, overpasses built, a new hotel constructed a few blocks from our apartment, and a big new mall opened. Essentially, though, more is the same than is different. It's good to be home. Maybe our macaw, Magoo, and our orange-winged amazon, Sidney, will remember me in a day or two. Denise, fortunately, had no problem remembering me right away.
Eight states and 1,100 miles in two days. Why is it, I wonder, that so few of those states have rest stops with sinks in which it is physically possible to do a decent job of washing one's hands? Maryland has the best of the states through which we traveled, and Ohio the worst (with Illinois the runner-up).
Even though I've made the trip four times in the past year, I'm still enchanted by the beauty of the mountain scenery in Maryland and West Virginia and Pennsylvania. Though Iowa's rolling hills (no, it is not flat; that's Nebraska and Kansas) have their own beauty, I don't think I'll ever tire of the Appalachian foothills.
"Mahomet" is an alternate spelling of Mohammed. It is also the name of a town in central Illinois. I used to know the story of how it got that odd name, but I've long since forgotten it. Anyway, as I drove through it this afternoon, I was wondering how the people of the town feel about that name in light of 9/11and the anti-Islamic feeling it engendered when I happened to look to my left. An attractive, modern church building caught my eye. I started to look away, but did a double-take when I noticed the large, metal letters on the front of the building, proclaiming it to be the "Lutheran Church of Mahomet."
With a name like that, it's got to be ELCA!
We finally rolled into town about six this evening (I reset my watch to Central Standard Time last night, just outside Indianapolis, even though Indiana is still Eastern). Mike (my college buddy- the Entrenched Government Bureaucrat from Springfield, Virginia, with whom I'd stayed these past eight months), Denise, and I had a nice dinner in belated celebration of Mike's birthday at The Spaghetti Works. Then Mike headed to his motel to get some rest in preparation for his pilgrimage back to Illinois and the Lincoln sites before returning to the Washington area this weekend. I mentioned to Mike that he was going to make the trifecta: he started his trip in Springfield, Virginia on Tuesday, had dinner that night in Springfield, Ohio, and was going to follow it all up with a visit to Springfield, Illinois! Thus far, no sign of Homer Simpson. Homer, Marge and the kids must live in Massachusetts, or maybe Missouri.
Denise just left for her new (graveyard shift) job with the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago, which has a facility only a few blocks from our apartment. After two mercifully brief stints with dysfunctional financial institutions here in Des Moines, the job- which isn't much of a challenge for her- will provide a much needed respite for a while. I'll be following up on my own job contacts in the next few days. I have a feeling that I, too, may continue working on the wrong side of the clock; at least we'll be able to spend our "evenings" together every morning! I asked Denise the other day whether perhaps we should replace our bed with matching coffins.
So now, after eight months in the never-never land of our nation's capitol, it's back to the heartland and the real world. I realized I had made the transition tonight at dinner, when I saw the prices on the menu and gave my order to a waitress who actually spoke English!
How about that? A service worker who speaks the same language as the people she waits upon! "Brilliant!" as the little cardboard men from the Guinness commercial would say. One more thing they'd never think of in Washington.
Des Moines has changed a bit in the last eight months. Streets have been re-routed, overpasses built, a new hotel constructed a few blocks from our apartment, and a big new mall opened. Essentially, though, more is the same than is different. It's good to be home. Maybe our macaw, Magoo, and our orange-winged amazon, Sidney, will remember me in a day or two. Denise, fortunately, had no problem remembering me right away.
Eight states and 1,100 miles in two days. Why is it, I wonder, that so few of those states have rest stops with sinks in which it is physically possible to do a decent job of washing one's hands? Maryland has the best of the states through which we traveled, and Ohio the worst (with Illinois the runner-up).
Even though I've made the trip four times in the past year, I'm still enchanted by the beauty of the mountain scenery in Maryland and West Virginia and Pennsylvania. Though Iowa's rolling hills (no, it is not flat; that's Nebraska and Kansas) have their own beauty, I don't think I'll ever tire of the Appalachian foothills.
"Mahomet" is an alternate spelling of Mohammed. It is also the name of a town in central Illinois. I used to know the story of how it got that odd name, but I've long since forgotten it. Anyway, as I drove through it this afternoon, I was wondering how the people of the town feel about that name in light of 9/11and the anti-Islamic feeling it engendered when I happened to look to my left. An attractive, modern church building caught my eye. I started to look away, but did a double-take when I noticed the large, metal letters on the front of the building, proclaiming it to be the "Lutheran Church of Mahomet."
With a name like that, it's got to be ELCA!
We finally rolled into town about six this evening (I reset my watch to Central Standard Time last night, just outside Indianapolis, even though Indiana is still Eastern). Mike (my college buddy- the Entrenched Government Bureaucrat from Springfield, Virginia, with whom I'd stayed these past eight months), Denise, and I had a nice dinner in belated celebration of Mike's birthday at The Spaghetti Works. Then Mike headed to his motel to get some rest in preparation for his pilgrimage back to Illinois and the Lincoln sites before returning to the Washington area this weekend. I mentioned to Mike that he was going to make the trifecta: he started his trip in Springfield, Virginia on Tuesday, had dinner that night in Springfield, Ohio, and was going to follow it all up with a visit to Springfield, Illinois! Thus far, no sign of Homer Simpson. Homer, Marge and the kids must live in Massachusetts, or maybe Missouri.
Denise just left for her new (graveyard shift) job with the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago, which has a facility only a few blocks from our apartment. After two mercifully brief stints with dysfunctional financial institutions here in Des Moines, the job- which isn't much of a challenge for her- will provide a much needed respite for a while. I'll be following up on my own job contacts in the next few days. I have a feeling that I, too, may continue working on the wrong side of the clock; at least we'll be able to spend our "evenings" together every morning! I asked Denise the other day whether perhaps we should replace our bed with matching coffins.
So now, after eight months in the never-never land of our nation's capitol, it's back to the heartland and the real world. I realized I had made the transition tonight at dinner, when I saw the prices on the menu and gave my order to a waitress who actually spoke English!
How about that? A service worker who speaks the same language as the people she waits upon! "Brilliant!" as the little cardboard men from the Guinness commercial would say. One more thing they'd never think of in Washington.
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