…from a recent trip to Clarkston, Michigan. When I lived in Michigan, I never appreciated the small towns with their 1920’s and 1930’s buildings and the old, rustic houses on wide, tree-lined streets and avenues. I drove to Clarkston alone and really enjoyed barreling down the highway in my mother’s giant car with the radio blasting. I almost felt like a teenager again. You have to remember that, in England, the highways are small and winding and they are full of traffic and so there is no fast lane or wide open highways in my part of the country.
I’m leaving Michigan tomorrow evening. I ease the guilt and sadness of saying goodbye to my friends and family by making plans for the next time I come home for a visit. There’s much to look forward to. And then I point myself in the other direction and prepare myself for my other family — my other friends — and a nice cuppa tea and a sit-down when I get home.
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Lovely clapper board houses! Just like what we want :o) Safe flight home Hun and look forward to that cuppa when you get there xxxx
Thank you, Debbie. Can’t wait to see you!
I do like that dark blue house! Safe trip home.
Oh — those houses. I was so unappreciative of the beauty of small town America when I lived here.
Love those Midwestern farm houses.
When I was a teenager in the 1960’s, I drove to California on Interstate 80. In Wyoming, Utah, and Nevada there was no speed limit. Just a ‘Safe and Reasonable’ speed. My nineteen year old brain said 120mph was very safe and reasonable. Even at those speeds it was a long drive.
I know… it’s amazing that we survived. Although…as a girl, I was greatly discouraged from adventure. But — yeah. I-80. I would love to take a x-country trip now and show my British family those wide-open spaces.