HOME AGAIN.

Home again!

The drive to Detroit was without incident and the time spent with Suzie is always good. Instead of visiting my favorite American department stores on this trip, we searched out flea markets. Suzie’s sister, who had come down with me, is an avid fan of such events.

It was interesting. At the Veterans’ regular Sunday sale, I found books, hardcover, old and new, best sellers and less known, each for 50 cents. Talk about happy!!

I tend to chat with strangers, and there was no exception made here, even if Suzie is a bit leery of the area. I was reading the back cover of one of my purchases as I strolled along and lifted my head just in time to avoid landing in the lap of a wheelchair bound, rather corpulent, bearded ex-soldier.

“Whoa!” he said, smiling, probably at my startled expression.

“So sorry!” I grinned, and put my hand on his arm as I did so; partly to apologize and partly to keep my balance.

“Ah – and now we can dance!” he grinned back. Purposely, I studied him and his chair for a second.

“And my dancing will be about as good as yours right now." I winked. The lady standing beside me looked mortified, but he threw his head back and laughed loudly. Later, as we were driving out of the parking area, he threw me a salute, and I gave him the ‘Peace’ sign; it was a special moment in an ordinary day.

We went to Mexican town and ate authentic and delicious food in the same restaurant I frequent whenever I’m in Detroit. There was an accident on the freeway so we were obliged to detour through streets I had not yet seen.

It was disturbing; beautiful old homes which have been reduced to slums, abandoned and heartbreaking in the obvious lack of care. Here and there would be an attempt to keep poverty at bay with a few flowers, a children’s play area, a clean yard; a brave spark among ruins created by the arrival of the drug trade and the municipal corruption so evident in the news lately. In spite of the scene, those little rays of hope reinforced my belief that there are people still working to make things right.

It was 6 AM and dark when we left to come back on Monday morning. We were only a short distance from her house, not yet on the freeway, when my truck began making strange...and bad...noises. I called Suzie to warn her we were turning back. After a visit to a garage that her husband uses on a regular basis, and the installation of new back brakes, it was noon before we were on our way again. It meant reaching Toronto at rush hour, so it was 10:30 PM before I was able to walk into my home and comfort my lonely, and hungry, doggies. There was no way I could get to bed before spending a good hour caring for and cuddling and assuring them that I was just going to my room and not out the door. I slept well and woke to find both of my pets on the floor by my bed instead of in their usual places on their couches.

Today was spent catching up on some work (although Helen left the house spic and span), and revising my CV, selecting some potential job sites, and walking with my boys along the driveway, admiring the glorious autumn colors of the trees. I reflected on how nice it is to come back home, and I SMILED.

Your share is already on its way to y’all!

PS: On my arrival, I received an email from a dear friend whose granddaughter, Alexia, born on August 10th this year, is in the hospital seriously ill with meningitis. We all know the power of prayer, and I would greatly appreciate that you could offer yours for this baby. Thank you!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.