Yet another day in Austin traffic with the AC combating outside triple digit temperatures and I find myself slouching further and further in the seat, grateful that my husband is now in Texas and has taken over the driving. It’s the final day of Ruby’s camp, and each day has involved over an hour of commute in the heat both ways. I am exhausted.
We stop for lunch at a local cafe where the decor is eclectic and fun. Tom orders a coffee, black, and the waiter while pouring exclaims, “Because that’s how the good Lord meant it to be drunk!” I find it amusing how open, how loud, how often I see and hear references to the good Lord even in Austin, supposedly the most liberal city in Texas. My blackened fish tacos are so well seasoned and delicious I wish I had two stomachs.
But by the time I arrive at my daughter’s house for the rest of our stay, I stumble past her doorway and flop onto the mattress on the floor in the side bedroom. I sleep for…