Postcard from the Road, without the Postcard
I'm writing you from Radisson's (Caroline and I have taken to adding possessives to everything, boredom takes its toll's) in South Dakota. I tapped into a weak wi-fi signal, otherwise this is a technological vacuum. Adding insult to injury (my favorite thing to do), I left the camera's USB cable at home, so you can't see nothin' and so I ain't sayin' nothin'.
Except.
My wife has motion sickness and/or food poisoning, which is slowly running its course, down the side of the car. So we're knee deep in vomit, dramamine and Pepto MAX. It's super fun.
Cross your fingers for a quick recovery, we're set for a spelunking tour tomorrow. I'm crossing everything. Everything.
Except.
My wife has motion sickness and/or food poisoning, which is slowly running its course, down the side of the car. So we're knee deep in vomit, dramamine and Pepto MAX. It's super fun.
Cross your fingers for a quick recovery, we're set for a spelunking tour tomorrow. I'm crossing everything. Everything.
Comments
Sorry to hear about your wife. Of course conventional wisdom has always prescribed cave exploration as a homespun remedy for nausea, going all the way back to Benjamin Franklin's Spelunking's Mailaise, back in the early colonial times.
Spelunking's treated us good. Exhausting though, even with no tight squeezes.
I haven't seen it yet, but maybe I should go rent it now....that's as close as I will ever get to spelunking. you two are very brave.