Pilot to co-pilot

sandSince the GG is a wee bit closer to the [dreaded] “R” word than yer fav-o-rite blahgger and has umpteen-bazillion more hours per year of PTO than her, trips up to the Great White North more often than not are horrendously complicated affairs that end up requiring us to drive in separate vee-hickles. I don’t mind driving up and back (unless we’re having snow or cyclonic storms) but I was ecstatic when I found out that my cuzzint npJane was going up to open up the Old Cabin this weekend and, “Do you want to carpool?” Yes. Yes I do.

The GG and I drove up together but today I served as npJane’s co-pilot on the trip down, helping keep the pilot abreast of traffic (plenty of holiday weekend crazies on the road but only a few slowdowns, yay!) and weather (pop-up storms with heavy rain but nothing like the Armageddon that’s going on down in Texas) via my personal assistant. You know the one. We took the Lansing Route, much calmer traffic than all the Weekend Warriors over on the I75 SUV Speedway. Red was appearing on Google maps early on in the trip, so we figured that the Speedway could potentially turn into a parking lot even with the Zilwaukee Bridge being open this summer (knock on wood).

It’s always interesting to me to contemplate the scraps of DNA that I seem to have in common with various cousins as well as the scraps of DNA that I must’ve gotten from the other side or some alien from Zephron III or wherever. One of the things npJane and I have in common is that we like to pack minimally for trips (we are also entranced with “tiny houses” but don’t think we could live in one and we aren’t all that crazy about horses, at least not up close and personal). Given the minimal packing thing, we spent quite some time marveling at the ton of crap we hauled back to the Planet Ann Arbor today. FOUR BAGS OF GARBAGE! One from the Old Cabin, two from the moomincabin, and one filled with trash the GG picked up on the beach. Laundry, recycling, perishable food, a couple boxes of items from The Comm’s house now destined for Kiwanis — *ancient* thermoses and a big coffee maker that we took apart (to see if all the parts were there) and could barely get back together. Terrible design and somebody else can deal with it. I did save another *gorgeous* old coffee maker even though I bet it’ll never get used (we saved a thermos too). Question: why did my mother have so many coffee makers? Answer: I do not know. And yes, I am still sorting out her stuff. And no, she was *not* a hoarder. (Hmmm… the thought just popped into my head that the coffee maker I saved may have been my grandmother’s…)

So. Home. Everything is put away except for the second load of laundry, which is currently in the dryer. Floated over to the Plum for food having no idea what on earth I wanted to eat/cook tonight. Copper River salmon and fresh basil brought a plan into focus: baked salmon, penne rigate with pesto, and a green salad. But first things first, a glass of whine in the backyard. Work tomorrow, chop chop.

P.S. My Dear Uncle Harry’s loverly Honda Accord was our ride today (npJane hangs on to vee-hickles as long as we do, so she’s ready for a new one). So thanks to Bubs and Harry too!

One Response to “Pilot to co-pilot”

  1. Margaret Says:

    I couldn’t live in a tiny house either and don’t like horses much. I can be a minimal packer when I want to be since I prefer to take just a back pack when I travel. (sometimes I have to take a small suitcase, which is about the size of others’ carry on luggage!!) Maybe we’re distantly related? 😉