68 in a 65

A fine memory from my recent roadtrip, relocating my furniture and personal belongings from a storage unit in Boulder, CO to a somewhat quirky and rundown yet charming cottage in Franconia, NH: as my friend, Bradford, and I closed in on Chicago, IL on Wednesday morning (day 2 of 3) an Illinois state trooper seemingly more interested in the westbound traffic pulled a u-turn from his median position and began tailing me down the interestate (it should be noted that I, myself, was tailing a transport truck. But nonetheless, what's a roadtrip without a story?). A minute passes, enough for him to run the Arizona-based plates on our intrepid 17' Uhaul truck, and his lights come on -- gobsmacked, I signal right and pull onto the shoulder.

An aside, as we were headed out on our first full driving day, wrestling with the lack of power in her Uhaul engine through Nebraska, I commented to Bradford that I would be somewhat proud to get a speeding ticket in our underpowered and cumbersome vehicle, as sportier machines and SUV's blew by us.

.... back to Officer BJ Lewis and his spirited and zealous pursuit for keeping the peace and ensuring the state of Illinois is free of dangerous scum on the roadways. He surprises us as I pull out my Colorado driver's license and the Uhaul rental contract; awaiting his presence at my driver's side window he pops up out of nowhere on the passenger side -- does the man know no conventions?!

"Do you know how fast you were going?" says he.

Surpressing a laugh and attempting to neutralize the confusion demonstrated by my transparent face and knitted brows, "No" says me.

"I clocked you going 68 in a 65."

A weighted silence, pushing down the impulse to respond with, "And....?" Further quieting my desire to add, "Did you happen to note the speed of the cars buzzing past us in the passing lane? Or the transport truck in front of me?"

Instead, "Oh," attempting to look adequately repentent and ashamed of myself while making sure I avoid eye contact with Bradford for fear of dissolving into laughter. I adjust my body position in the truck, plopping my chin on top of my hand and leaning towards Office Lewis as though his words are as compelling as a first hand account of witnessing the parting of the seas.

He continues talking, sharing his philosophy that Facebook and MySpace should be made illegal for all the danger they present to peoples' safety and privacy (this after I ask him if I can take his picture for my blog). Bradford, sensing Officer Lewis' desire to be a helper/protector, smartly asks for directions in navigating the worst of Chicago traffic. After 15 minutes or so, we're on our way with a written warning and advice that Indiana highway patrol are out in full force today - apparently I'm on their radar and should no longer push the edges of conformity when it comes to making a landspeed record in a Uhaul from Colorado to New Hampshire.

Wednesday afternoon, April 1st, Bradford and I safely pulled the gas-eating Uhaul into the driveway of my white clapboard cottage. All is well here at my new NH post -- after 3 days of unpacking and placing, my home has taken shape. I'm thrilled.

The weather since our arrival has been unseasonably warm and sunny, crossing over the 80 degree threshold and imploring the budding of new life from the earth and trees. On this Easter Sunday morning, Bradford and I went out walking and exploring through the woods beside my home. I have now taken to walking everywhere in my black rubber boots but the knee-high footwear could only run so much interference for my skin as Bradford and I bushwacked our way (somewhat disoriented and lost) through brambles and fallen trees. I consider these angry red scratches a small token of appreciation to the holiday of resurrection and the spirit of atonement -- it's a full life for me and there are often small prices to pay in the spirit of adventure and expansion.

Stay tuned.... I've resigned from my employment at the shelter. I will work full-time until May 5th and then, in honour of celebrating my 40th year in October, I am dedicating the next few months to pursuing my pleasure and passion for writing, as a gift to myself. If possible, I would like to work part-time/contractually to help make ends meet (and simply because I enjoy therapy as a professional practice) for the next half year or so but, more than anything, I am choosing to follow my heart and soul a bit more for now. After all, if not NOW, then when?

Happy spring to you -- may your search for chocolate eggs be fruitful. And keep it just under 'dangerous' on your adventure speedometer.