900 miles...

900 miles...

If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night.
I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow.

Ramblin' Jack Elliot

I was never 900 miles from home, but I put 900 miles on the odometer in the last 4 days in a swing out through Cleveland, Orrville, Columbus, Dayton, and Indy. I had eight meetings in three days, and I saw some of the best and some of the worst. Hot muggy weather followed me wherever I went until this afternoon. The air seemed to dry out the further North I came.

Three nights in hotels and eating at restaurants was almost more than I could handle. When I got home I picked up half a dozen ears of Sweet Corn Charlies' best, along with a couple of fresh tomatoes. Then I stir fried half a zuchinni with a little garlic, onion, basil and tomato, and steamed a couple ears of the corn. What a treat! Plus I was home in my own dining nook with my own music. (Instead of greatest hits from the 60s and 70s as I had one night in Wooster. Do you know what it does to your taste buds to have Honky Tonk Woman scratching out of a tinny ceiling speaker in what could actually be a nice restaurant? I like the Stones, but if played in public they should be played loudly, in a bar, or not at all. And never, ever, as background musak.)

Fresh sweet corn is the perfect antidote to the road warrior's life. You can't buy it in a restaurant.

When I got home I found evidence of Leena's visit, and then wondered 'Was this the week that she was here, or was that in some previous life?' But it was just this week. It was great seeing her, even though the time was short. This was the first time she had seen or stayed in my new home. She had some good suggestions for decorating and furniture placement. Funny, she doesn't like the lace curtains in the front room.