It’s a truckers breakfast here at the Econo Lodge. I wandered in to get my usual orange juice only to hear four or five beefy guys telling horror stories about the roads, and lamenting the fact that there wasn’t any gravy for the biscuits. I wish I could talk like they do. I could hardly understand them, but I got up my nerve and chimed in with our story. They became instantly silent, and looked me up and down. They said, “Wisconsin? You ain’t goin’ nowhere!” They told me some of the major freeways were still closed, and the ones with travel advisories are slick and dangerous. They also told me that if we get stuck in a ditch, no one would tow us out for days. I asked how we would survive in these sub-zero temperatures out there, and they said a police officer would eventually pick us up, and we would get a $150.00 ticket for driving during an advisory. These guys are staying put.
The sun is shining on the snow-laden trees outside our warm and cozy room. I don’t mind that it’s Spartan anymore. It’s time to make some calls. Frank’s throwing a load of laundry in, so it looks like we’re also staying put for a while. We’ll try to make it as far as Des Moines today, and maybe there we’ll find a big, old romantic hotel and just hope that we can reschedule our concert. Does De Moines have such a thing?
I am now without a warm coat. My beautiful, expensive, puffy, goose down jacket that has helped me survive got burned up last night! It was touching the make-up lights in the dressing room! Boy, did that stink! Have you ever smelled smoldering goose feathers? We were laughing about it last night, until today. We now realize that my biggest piece of survival gear is gone. The temperature right now in Newton is –8. The winds are at 10 to 20 mph. I don’t want to be an idiot OR a hero.
We left the laundry detergent in the car last night. It froze. So did Frank’s eye drops.
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