I check off the first item of my “to do” list with a red marker and feel a surge of power. Ha. It’s not even noon on Sunday morning. By late afternoon all these pesky chores accumulated over the busy week will be done.
Next item. Vacuum up dog hair. Hmmm. Such a futile chore. Maybe I’ll skip to the next one. My eyes move on.
Wash towels…shake rugs…defrost hamburger… clean toilets. My list is looking more and more grim. I might as well face the music. I grit my teeth and haul out the vacuum cleaner.
Dick walks in the front door just as the vacuum nozzle sucks up a large tuft of dog hair. He’s been working on our ’46 Chevy pickup street rod. “Taking her out for a spin. Want to come along or are you too busy?”
“I can’t go. I’ve got all these chores and just started vacuuming.”
I look out the window. Blue sky. Fluffy white fast moving clouds. Sunshine brightening the red moose maples. Beautiful early autumn day.
“Wait.” I set down the vacuum and pull the plug. “This day is too nice and life is too short. Give me five minutes.”
Pacifying the dogs with a treat and closing several windows in case of rain, I grab my sunglasses and hop in the street rod. Dick turns the ignition key and the V8 engine rumbles as our truck pulls out of the driveway.
We rolled down the windows as we pick up speed. “Yahoo!” I shout as we cruise down the South Shore Drive. My hair flies in the wind, the engine roars in my ears.
We turn onto County Road 8, rumble past the Gunflint Hills Golf Course and zoom down the Gunflint Trail to Grand Marais. On Highway 61, we find ourselves waiting at the one and only stoplight. The street rod is painted a glowing berry red and attracts attention. People wave or give the high sign.
One girl riding on her dad’s shoulders sees us and her whole face lights up as she gives a wave. We roll on down the road. “Did you have any lunch?” Dick asks. I hadn’t. “Shall we stop and eat somewhere?”
Perfect. We cruise down the highway until we reach a local restaurant where we wolf down hamburgers and fries. Then we motor back to Grand Marais and home.
As we pull into the driveway, saturated with food and a wonderful feeling of freedom, I decide to rip up the rest of my “to do” list.
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