Last week was for relaxation and reconnecting with family. After festival last weekend, I drove the short 20 minutes to the Atlanta Airport where I reluctantly left Bertha to the mercies of long term parking and hopped a plane to Minneapolis, MN.
No really, it was as easy as that, I’ve never had a flight go so smoothly. The walk from the economy parking area to the airport was short. Getting checked in and through security was speedy. Finding my terminal and gate was painless. Boarding was a piece of cake. The plane left early, and there was no turbulence to speak of. I made it off the plane and to where my parents were waiting about five minutes before the plane was even due to land. It was that simple. If only all flights went like this.
The rest of Monday afternoon was spent driving to a real Wisconsin cheese factory, I had orders to fill back in Atlanta. There’s nothing like fresh cheese, the stuff you buy in grocery stores just can’t compare. The name of the place is Wisconsin Dairy State Cheese Company, it’s less than an hour from where my parents live and where my family has been procuring fresh cheese for all of my life. Mmm, cheese…
Ahem, where was I?
Tuesday was hang around the house day. It would have been hike behind the house day, but the mosquitoes are horrendous this year because of the heavy rainfall for the past two months. I find it to be very odd going “home” after spending so many years away. Some things haven’t changed at all, and I can almost believe that the clock has been turned back and I’m in high school again. But some things have changed and because I wasn’t around to witness the change it seems jarring and out of place. I love my parents dearly and it’s great going home every now and then, but I know I couldn’t go back to living in Wisconsin Rapids. I’ve outgrown the place.
Wednesday was fishing day. After a bit of a scramble through the unwieldy Wisconsin licensing web page, I found myself $10 poorer but in possession of a one day fishing license. My dad is still an avid fisherman and I have fond memories as a kid of heading out with him and my brother trout fishing in streams, or pan fishing from the family fishing boat. And a lot of memories of getting my fishing line tangled up in trees. Today was the second kind of fishing.
Our main target is bluegills, which normally this time of year would be making their spawning beds in the shallows of the lakes near my parent’s house, but because of the late spring their season is running a bit behind. Still, we brought home 13 keepable sized ones, and probably had two or three more that met the guidelines to be kept but were a bit smaller so they were released back to get bigger. For just my mom and dad, 13 bluegills is about 3 ½ meals, not a bad catch at all. Oh, and I’d also like to note that I did not get caught up in a tree, but that my dear father did, so there!
Thursday was picnic day. My brother took two days of vacation and arrived in time for it. We (and by “we”, I mean my mother) packed everything up and we headed out to a different lake that has a little day use park. A trail runs along one side of the lake, and after cooking and eating our pudgy pies* my brother and I walked along the shore and enjoyed the cool and less humid weather and a breeze strong enough to keep the mosquitoes away. At least, I thought it was cool and dry, everything seems cooler and drier after Georgia the past couple weeks.
Friday was fly back day. Everyone drove out to Minneapolis to take me back to the airport, and on the way there we stopped at Norske Nook for a slice of their world famous pie. Some years ago they had the distinction of winning a Grand Championship for their strawberry cheesecake pie, although over half of their 64(!) different kinds of pie have won a blue ribbon somewhere or other. I had the blueberry, and it was most excellent.
Back at the airport, TSA pulls aside my carry on bag for review as I go through security. After confirming that my cheese is not plastic explosives, I’m waved through and have almost an exact repeat of the flight out. It must be some sort of miracle to make it on two consecutive flights with no delays or issues. As the plane descends into Atlanta, small thunderstorm cells in the vicinity make for a great photo opportunity. I love flying. About 90% of the people on both flights spent it sleeping, reading, or dinking around on their phones. I spent a good bit of it plastered to the window looking at the world below. It’s such a different perspective, one that can’t be replicated through any other means.
Bertha was exactly as I left her. I drive 20 minutes home to Cas and then spent the last two days immersed in closing weekend at the Georgia Renaissance Festival.
I sang, danced, laughed, and teared up a little at the end. I’ve made some great friends whom I’ll keep in touch with long after Georgia disappears in my rear view mirror, which is coming up tomorrow.
Tomorrow, yikes! A lot of my fellow rennies were very emotional to see the end of our season, and I was too, but I am also excited. Because for a full-time RVer, the end of one adventure heralds the beginning of a new one!
For those who are curious, no I do not have my next job pinned down yet, although I’m getting close. While this freaks my parents out, I’m confident enough in my abilities now to know that I will land a job before it becomes an issue. Remember, the whole of the country is a viable place to job search when your house has wheels. My immediate goal is Yantis, TX to pay Larry at Little House Customs a visit to work on aligning my hitch better. My appointment there is this Friday. My job search area is between there and Reno Nevada where I’ll be due in by the end of September. It’s alright everyone, I’ve got this.
My computer is refusing to boot up unless it’s plugged in which will make updating from the road a little harder, but I should at least be able to post on Friday once I get in to Larry’s shop. In the meantime, I’ll try to get a photo or two of my travels though Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana up on the Facebook page. Have a good week all!
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