The back road and small town redeemed the American road trip. I dropped the boys off for their annual "boys weekend" in Pennsylvania (translate a weekend of ruckus among Uncles, Cousins, Nephews and Sons) and embarked on a long solo drive home, by which I mean my childhood home and now the only permanent place to call so.
Instead of heading straight for the freeway, I took route 26, weaving along the huge Raystown lake and through various small towns. Plush layers of green coated the view, trees draping over fields stretching into thick-grassed yards. All morning it rained, but in the hour I spent on 26, the sun peeked out to make a vibrant, glowing display of flora and fauna. Cutting through places such as Riddlesburg, Hopewell and Everett offered a view of small town life. Mom and Pop restaurants, general stores, pharmacies that also sell flowers and gifts, even a bank called Hometown Bank. Clusters of houses were sprinkled before and after each little business district.
The highway West didn't offer as much interest and after my chin starting dropping I took a rest stop nap then loaded up on junk food, making it to the farm awake, and very glad to be out of the car! Then, let the relaxation begin. Farm time is great for nature walks, hammock naps, and sleeping in. Plus, my Grandpa showed up and showed me a thing or two on my guitar.
On Monday, I took a series of back roads to do a gas station pick-up of Michael B. and Fred. Meeting Uncle Dick just off his main thoroughfare, I grabbed a last hug from him then hauled the boys to the farm so they too could catch up on their sleep, do some fishing, and ride the four wheeler. Next stop, Lansing, MI, mi hermana's house, where a roofing project awaits 
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