It was 3 a.m. "Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!" our alarm frantically sounded.
(Our alarm does not "buzz" or "ring." It chirps frantically as if every bird in the world is waiting for us to get up and feed them breakfast.)
I didn't have any trouble arising despite the fact that I had only had three hours sleep.
(Three hours, that is, if I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. Which I didn't.)
But getting out of bed was not a problem. Neither was getting up the Bear and the Bear.
(We really did have two Bears sleeping in this house that night. The other boy going to DC with us had the same first name as our son. It got confusing at times as we would say things like, "Bear, did you remember to pack . . .," and both boys would chime in with synchronized voices, "Yes.")
We were on the road by 3:45. Of the two of us, Pastor Dad is the early bird and I am the night owl.
(The trouble was, we weren't sure under whose jurisdiction this insane hour fell!)
Pastor Dad started out driving. For the first hour or so we were on familiar and semi-familiar roads to Columbus, Ohio. I think I dozed a time or two but I've become one of those people who rarely sleeps in the car.
(It didn't used to be a problem, but now I've reached the conclusion that I don't want the prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep . . . If I should die before I wake . . ." to have anything to do with riding in a car.)
As we passed Columbus and made our way east the light of dawn began to appear. I knew from experience that Cambridge had a Bob Evans restaurant so we decided to stop there to fill our stomachs and to allow the sun to rise higher in the sky.
(Just as a finger down the throat causes a gag reflex - or so I've observed in others - the sun in the eyes causes said eyes to want to close. We needed to avoid that happening at all costs.)
After breakfast we hit the road again with Pastor Dad behind the wheel. He drove for about another hour before he was ready "to rest his eyes" for "a few minutes." The coffee he'd had at breakfast wasn't doing much to help him stay awake so I didn't have much hope for the 2 cups of hot tea I'd consumed.
(Oh, ye of little faith! God bless the distributors of "English Breakfast tea!")
As I guided our car down the stretch of interstate before us, Iris - our GPS - was the only voice to converse with me for awhile.
(Unless you count Michael Buble, Billy Joel, Beethoven, Abbot & Costello, Keith & Kristyn Getty, Nicole C. Mullen, and Veggie Tales' Silly Songs With Larry playing on my iPod. I have very eclectic tastes. On second thought, perhaps Billy Joel wasn't one of the voices as I had to skip over "Lullabye: Goodnight, My Angel" for obvious reasons.)
Time and miles ticked by. Occasionally one of the males in the car would murmur a question about our location but otherwise it was me, Iris, and the iPod doing our thing.
(And the cars with kayaks on them, and little old ladies out a day early for their Sunday drives because they knew it was going to take them that long to get to Virginia as slow as they were going, and the occasional state trooper making sure that little old ladies like me remember that there are no awards given for arriving in DC ahead of schedule.)
Early in the afternoon, activity began buzzing around me. The males in the vehicle were awaking for the day. Offers to drive began to be heard.
(That would be Pastor Dad and the other Bear. Our Bear would love to have the opportunity, but alas! he must wait another year before he can make the offer. And have it rejected.)
While it would've been nice to change drivers the chance to do so had pretty much passed. We were on the outskirts of Washington DC and the traffic was picking up something fierce!
(That, and the fact that I had no clue exactly where we were going besides "Arlington, VA" and Iris was picking some very odd routes to get us there. Even I could see that, and I wasn't even sure where I was at the moment.)
After a brief excursion down "Cabin John" beside a beautiful park along an old canal, we made our way into the outskirts of the city and watched for the streets and exit ramps that Iris was hurriedly spouting off.
(My sleep-deprived brain and driving-fried nerves were causing my reading and comprehension skills to be somewhat delayed. "Recalculating" became the parrot-cry of the hour.)
We finally made it to the building where we were to leave the Bears. Construction in that city block, and especially on that specific building, made it seem like we would never get our mission completed.
("First time around the block, you jump out Bear #1. The next time around, you jump out Bear #2. Then we'll throw out your luggage piece by piece as we circle. And if we are blessed enough to get a red light, we'll get this baby unloaded in no time!" was the thought swirling around in my weary head.)
I saw a parking garage just down the block! Yes! Unfortunately, there were no empty spots, which we didn't know until we were inside. I circled a time or two before reaching the end of my endurance.
(By that, I mean that I started sobbing, "I want to get out of this car! I've got to get out of this car!!!! NOW!!!! Bear #1 probably thought, "Hold it together, Mom! Don't embarrass me in front of my friend!" and Bear #2 probably thought, "Our pastor's wife has completely gone off her rocker!")
(Our alarm does not "buzz" or "ring." It chirps frantically as if every bird in the world is waiting for us to get up and feed them breakfast.)
I didn't have any trouble arising despite the fact that I had only had three hours sleep.
(Three hours, that is, if I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. Which I didn't.)
But getting out of bed was not a problem. Neither was getting up the Bear and the Bear.
(We really did have two Bears sleeping in this house that night. The other boy going to DC with us had the same first name as our son. It got confusing at times as we would say things like, "Bear, did you remember to pack . . .," and both boys would chime in with synchronized voices, "Yes.")
We were on the road by 3:45. Of the two of us, Pastor Dad is the early bird and I am the night owl.
(The trouble was, we weren't sure under whose jurisdiction this insane hour fell!)
Pastor Dad started out driving. For the first hour or so we were on familiar and semi-familiar roads to Columbus, Ohio. I think I dozed a time or two but I've become one of those people who rarely sleeps in the car.
(It didn't used to be a problem, but now I've reached the conclusion that I don't want the prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep . . . If I should die before I wake . . ." to have anything to do with riding in a car.)
As we passed Columbus and made our way east the light of dawn began to appear. I knew from experience that Cambridge had a Bob Evans restaurant so we decided to stop there to fill our stomachs and to allow the sun to rise higher in the sky.
(Just as a finger down the throat causes a gag reflex - or so I've observed in others - the sun in the eyes causes said eyes to want to close. We needed to avoid that happening at all costs.)
After breakfast we hit the road again with Pastor Dad behind the wheel. He drove for about another hour before he was ready "to rest his eyes" for "a few minutes." The coffee he'd had at breakfast wasn't doing much to help him stay awake so I didn't have much hope for the 2 cups of hot tea I'd consumed.
(Oh, ye of little faith! God bless the distributors of "English Breakfast tea!")
As I guided our car down the stretch of interstate before us, Iris - our GPS - was the only voice to converse with me for awhile.
(Unless you count Michael Buble, Billy Joel, Beethoven, Abbot & Costello, Keith & Kristyn Getty, Nicole C. Mullen, and Veggie Tales' Silly Songs With Larry playing on my iPod. I have very eclectic tastes. On second thought, perhaps Billy Joel wasn't one of the voices as I had to skip over "Lullabye: Goodnight, My Angel" for obvious reasons.)
Time and miles ticked by. Occasionally one of the males in the car would murmur a question about our location but otherwise it was me, Iris, and the iPod doing our thing.
(And the cars with kayaks on them, and little old ladies out a day early for their Sunday drives because they knew it was going to take them that long to get to Virginia as slow as they were going, and the occasional state trooper making sure that little old ladies like me remember that there are no awards given for arriving in DC ahead of schedule.)
Early in the afternoon, activity began buzzing around me. The males in the vehicle were awaking for the day. Offers to drive began to be heard.
(That would be Pastor Dad and the other Bear. Our Bear would love to have the opportunity, but alas! he must wait another year before he can make the offer. And have it rejected.)
While it would've been nice to change drivers the chance to do so had pretty much passed. We were on the outskirts of Washington DC and the traffic was picking up something fierce!
(That, and the fact that I had no clue exactly where we were going besides "Arlington, VA" and Iris was picking some very odd routes to get us there. Even I could see that, and I wasn't even sure where I was at the moment.)
After a brief excursion down "Cabin John" beside a beautiful park along an old canal, we made our way into the outskirts of the city and watched for the streets and exit ramps that Iris was hurriedly spouting off.
(My sleep-deprived brain and driving-fried nerves were causing my reading and comprehension skills to be somewhat delayed. "Recalculating" became the parrot-cry of the hour.)
We finally made it to the building where we were to leave the Bears. Construction in that city block, and especially on that specific building, made it seem like we would never get our mission completed.
("First time around the block, you jump out Bear #1. The next time around, you jump out Bear #2. Then we'll throw out your luggage piece by piece as we circle. And if we are blessed enough to get a red light, we'll get this baby unloaded in no time!" was the thought swirling around in my weary head.)
I saw a parking garage just down the block! Yes! Unfortunately, there were no empty spots, which we didn't know until we were inside. I circled a time or two before reaching the end of my endurance.
(By that, I mean that I started sobbing, "I want to get out of this car! I've got to get out of this car!!!! NOW!!!! Bear #1 probably thought, "Hold it together, Mom! Don't embarrass me in front of my friend!" and Bear #2 probably thought, "Our pastor's wife has completely gone off her rocker!")
Pastor Dad told me to stop the car right there. Right there! In the middle of the road in the parking garage. I did so and we switched sides.
And there. Right there! Not three spaces ahead of us was an empty spot where someone had departed since I'd made my last circuit around the garage.
Pastor Dad drove that last 20 feet or so to complete the main portion of our journey!
(The talking-to-myself part should now be self-evident.)
Oh, that was so good! I DO NOT like driving around that city, either! At the time, we had the 4 kids. Their ages were such that the only thing they cared about our "tour" was getting back to the hotel so they could go swimming!
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