Hello, All! Just a quick update for you. :)
It’s been a whirlwind few weeks, as predicted. We drove across the Midwest and up into New England, visiting friends and family, attending a fundraiser, hauling a few things out of our storage box in New Hampshire, and then headed up to Canada to get set up in a little cottage on Wolfe Island.
The family is there now. Mom is busy unpacking, writing, and working at a breakneck pace. Gabriel put on his best shirt and marched into town one afternoon. He returned with a job at a boat shop down the road that’ll likely pay him enough over the summer to cover his semester at sea this fall. We’re all very proud of him. The younger boys are schooling and biking around the island, finding work raking people’s yards here and there, and sailing Ezra’s handmade toy catamaran off the dock. I miss them already.
I’m now in Alabama, reunited with Will and visiting some of his friends and family on our own little Midwest tour. I’ve never spent much time in Alabama; most of my time in the U.S. being spent in New England and Indiana. The outskirts of Huntsville are quiet and comfortable, with enough trees to keep you feeling as if you aren’t truly in a densely populated area. The suburb I’m in at the moment is surrounded by endless strip malls, Super-Walmarts, Targets, and chicken restaurant after chicken restaurant. How they all stay in business, I have no idea.
I’m beginning to think that having an overwhelming love of fried chicken is a prerequisite to being a resident of Alabama.
Bojangles, Chick-fil-A, Arby’s, Denny’s, A & W, McDonalds, Popeyes, Zaxby’s, Hooters, KFC, Church’s Chicken… All these are within a ten minute drive of this apartment. All serve fried chicken in some shape or form. Which is the best? Depends on who you ask. A & W has a one up on Popeyes, Bojangles claims to have the best biscuits and tea to go with their chicken, and McDonalds sits forever at the bottom of the pile in a place of endless shame. As Will’s dad says, “There’s a hierarchy of chicken.”
Hierarchy or no, the Midwest might kill me and my metabolism. I’m not much of a fried chicken girl, myself. It’s good stuff… on occasion. Not every day, two or three times a day. It sits like a brick in your stomach, makes you sluggish and sick, and you can practically feel yourself getting fatter as grease oozes out of your pores and your acne acts up for the first time in seven months. Will is in the same boat. So, we paid homage to the salad gods yesterday and stocked the fridge with bell peppers, feta, lettuce, spinach, and other lovely green things. We should be set for a few days.
The plan is to be in Alabama for another week or so before heading up to Kansas City for a few days to visit the roller coaster park there. Then it’s off to Iowa. There’s also an incredible space exploration museum here in Huntsville to check out in a couple of days. Perhaps tomorrow. I’ll take pictures for you. In the meantime, eat more chicken. ;)