Day 4 was hard because I spent most of the day cleaning the house (so much easier to do without Thorin Underfoot, my four month old puppy there to “help” me ever step of the way) and getting packed for New England. I did want to come home to a clean house, so maybe that counts as a RoK to myself, since housework isn’t my favorite activity.
And at the airport the plane was full. When the gate agent said anyone volunteering to check their carry on bag wouldn’t get charged a fee (to make certain that there would be enough overhead bin space on board), I checked my bag. Some fellow traveler got my bin space without knowing it.
Day 5: Woster, Massachusetts. I spent an hour driving from gas station to gas station looking for a road map of Massachusetts. Nobody sells maps here. At home, just about every gas station and convienience store along the highway sells them, but apparently here, they are as rare as Arkenstones. (On the other hand New Hampshire gives them away for free at rest stops. Yay, New Hampshire!)
However, I did get my RoK done for the day. Mara, a lady outside a liquor store, asked me for a ride home and since she was harmless, I gave her one. It was only a mile or two out of my way and she was nice enough. She said blessings all along the way in a language I’m pretty certain was made up. And she said to make certain I go to Fenway Park to take a selfie.
I had a lovely conversation with a young man from Senegal this morning. He was originally from Sierra Leone, but left when he was five because of the civil war. We talked about the “Lost Boys” of Sierra Leone and the war and how he emigrated to the United States with other refugees when he was fifteen. He wants to be a chef. He’s had culinary training, and dreams of opening a bar and grill on the beach in Senegal that serves American and European style breakfasts and Afro-Caribbean fused food at night. Bless him. He is such a cheery soul.