Virginia to Kentucky
To say we moved out of our house today would be inaccurate. What we did was evacuate. We left furniture we couldn’t take, junk no one wanted, and things we forgot in our haste. We crammed what we were taking with us into our minivan, along with four dogs and a cat. The luggage pod wouldn’t close properly, so I forced it, which will probably come back to haunt me.
My oldest dog, Pochi, was anxious the whole way and refused to sit down in the car. The cat complained in his carrying case the whole way. My youngest daughter learned to rap. When she saw the police, she yelled out, “Look! A cop!”
Passing through West Virginia felt like we had been selected for the Hunger Games from District 12. Some of those coal towns made me want to cry just by driving past them. Or maybe it was the cramps in my legs.
So now I’m in a Kentucky La Quinta, and next I have to throw away a bunch of clothes so we can fit our luggage in the cargo pod. The two least manageable dogs are in the room with Kevin and me, while the cool dogs are with the girls in the other room. We start the next leg of our journey tomorrow.
Which brings us to today’s trivia question. How is Kentucky like Virginia?
I don’t know, but I do know this. I smell like dogs.