(The indoor pumpkin. If I leave the seasonal decorations on the porch overnight their flesh will freeze and they will blacken and get mushy. Photo Socotra).

I had a hard time getting out of Arlington yesterday. I had to answer several inquiries about what happened Saturdy afternoon in Ann Arbor, and I am stoically not going to comment. Not the first time- erratic sleep patterns have made rising at the usual hour problematic. Eventually, though, I managed to load the old-lady cart and drag laundry, hand-cranked sausage maker I wanted to get to the Russians, some books, coffee thermos, replacement marksmanship supplies, booze and mixers out in the hall.

The pool project has the easy exit from my patio closed, and so it was a circuitous journey to the elevator bank and down to the garage to load the Panzer.

I-66 West was running the weekday traffic pattern, the one where the break-down lanes are used for through traffic. Closing them on the weekends when there is just as much- if not more- traffic has made the interstate a constant irritant. For whatever reason, the VDOT Gods made getting out of town easy.

I was starting to relax- I figured out how to play audio books on my iPod in the auxiliary mode on the Panzer’s stereo, and was appropriately listening to Erik Larson’s surreal account of the year of 1934 in what was becoming Hitler’s Germany. His introduction was rueful. At any point in that year, things could have been different. Something could have been done. The Nazis could have been stopped.

Living in 2015, I have an eerie feeling that we haven’t learned a damned thing, and our times are the same, and for almost the identical reasons.

Anyway, it was smooth sailing, except for the rise of the Stormtoopers and the destruction of a democratic government in Germany in the background until I hit Haymarket and prepared for the big hook off the interstate and the turn to the south.

I took the usual exit at Rt. 15 and drove down to the light to find the road… closed!

There was an unmarked detour and then began a magical mystery tour across the country trying to hook up with the highway again south of the train tracks. When I emerged onto the highway from the byway, I found myself in the wrong lane with oncoming traffic headed for me.

I veered wildly back to the right between orange traffic barrels and dodged death there. Traffic was heavy on 29 coming south, but there were no further mishaps.

No mice in the mailbox, when I got there, and the place was undisturbed.

I just got done putting crap away when the Russians showed up with a bottle of wine, which I was obligated to answer with one of mine. Pleasant afternoon talking about all sorts of country things- harvesting the first deer of the season, assassinating woodchucks, making sausage, local game wardens, criminal trespassers, manual adapters for the wells so we can get water when the power goes out, what the best generators are to keep the freezers running in times of disruption and that sort of thing.

We believe in being prepared for just about everything down here. I cooked dinner with the football game going in the background after they went home and decided to leave the security light turned off and enjoy the utter darkness and the brilliance of the stars wheeling above.

I slept well, and straight through to the pre-dawn. The frost on the front lawn was heavy. Things are supposed to warm up over the next few days, but we will see. Plenty of chores today, and time to get on with them.

So, having said that I would come back and finish the story in a couple minutes, I limped down to the garage to discover, to only mild surprise, what the $500 dollar surprise of the day was going to be.

But more on that, tomorrow. I have got a few more chores to do than I thought.

(A former P245/50Z16 low-profile Indy performance tire. Photo Socotra)

Copyright 2015 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303