Bluegrass baby

To paraphrase Elwood Blues, it's 873 miles to Charleston, we've got a full tank of gas, a cooler full of pop, water and snacks, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses.

So much for an extended stay at home. Two days after returning from Iowa, I've hit the road again. Hello from Lexington, KY, folks. I'm writing this from the beautiful Embassy Suites, located about four miles from the University of Kentucky. (Tonight, Sis, I applaud your hotel snobbiness. This is way better than my usual accommodations at Motel 6.) I doubt we'll have time for me to check out the campus or pick up some UK swag. Maybe on the return trip.

Why the impromptu road trip? My sister has to return to Charleston, SC, after spending the last two weeks in Michigan helping with funeral preparations and all of the paperwork we suddenly have to deal with. (I've always made fun of my sister's anal retentive need for organization and detail. Sis, I take all those taunts and teases back. You've been amazing.) And my mother decided Sis shouldn't have to return to an empty condo after losing her father. So with Mom taking a family leave from work, and me currently looking for employment, we definitely had the time to help ease my sister's transition back into her normal life.

Okay, I'm going to wander around the lobby and courtyard of this place with my mouth wide open admiringly, looking like the I-usually-stay-in-motels hayseed I am. And I should probably schedule my foot massage and facial. No continental breakfasts for this mofo tomorrow morning, my friends.

Next stop, South Carolina.