Some things work

Dateline: Thursday Aug 5, 2021; Anderson, Indiana.

If everything worked all the time, would we be dissatisfied? Do we require challenge and failure? If every time you had some new idea, you tried it and it worked and it kept working, would there be any reason to exist? Or is it the tinkering itself, the fragile success, the succumbing to entropy and the reinventing that makes us thrive?

“Everything” is a broad category, but yesterday everything worked. The weather was sunny but cooling down into pleasant temperatures as I escape the boggy south. I had scheduled a long driving day and Driver-Susan usually hates Planner-Susan for these, but the road was smooth and wide, the vistas spectacular. Every time I took a notion to stop, a spacious, grassy rest area magically appeared.

Google maps tried to ruin the day by taking me on one of its insane, pointless detours. Too bad, Google! I loved meandering through farms, tiny towns and peaceful neighborhoods. I arrived at my new campground site relaxed and filled with wonder.

Campground itself is immense and lovely. A wooded dog park with that special soft midwestern grass. A massive open field of the stuff—the dogs ran and ran. A swimming lake, a burbling creek, a trail through the woods.

Huge field at a campground in Indiana

One of the things that needs to work each day is me. The internet is wobbly which made more this more difficult, but not impossible.

So I had to pick the thing that hasn’t been working: Blogger has lost its mind.

I tried to give up on blogging, but lists of things worth noting stampede my brain, seeking the exit like the crowd at a canceled game.

Thus, if you are reading this at all, you are reading it on a new platform. I’ll move all the old blogs here (it may take a decade.) They will one day, perhaps, serve as my memoir. A life in travel. I count it fair.