My brother and I are piling into my Escape around 5 am on Thursday. I have no plans. I want no plans. Well, maybe the farmer's market on Saturday. Then again, maybe not. I'm packing my wheel and taking some knitting with me, but nothing new. Just three WIPS (works in progress for you non-knitters) will be making the trek. I will be stopping in to see the Needle Lady's new digs if I get downtown, but like I said, I've got no plans.
It should be an interesting 600 miles with my brother. He leans way to the right and is certain to have a book penned by that literary genius, Glen Beck or that other preacher, Rush Vicodin-Poppin' Limbaugh. I'm planning on reordering my Sirius satellite radio so I can play some serious left wing drivel for him. Good times ahead, people. Good times. Wish us well--no yelling, political baiting, fisticuffs or name calling will be involved. It's a vacation for God's sake. Safe territory is BP bashing, the weather, medicine and work. Just in case, I'm taking earbuds.
While my youngest brother isn't joining us, I did find something for him to watch and enjoy:
You know, FTM, it seemed so much more dangerous when we did this. These people are pansies, what with the Sheriff there to tow them to safety. Of course, we never went in under the bridge, either. To that, I have to say, Screw Loose, is an understatement! I bet a lot of people peed in the river that day. I know I would going under that bridge.
For those who don't know this neck of the woods, a neck is what it is. The water from Lake Huron drops into the St. Clair River with amazing force at a sort of bottleneck where the two bodies of water meet. The strength of the eddies and the current are a sight to behold.