From the title, you probably guessed it: I arrived.
My six-day road trip took about 9 days. Not bad when you consider how long I was stuck in Des Moines.
I'm now in Waltham, MA. I left New York early, around 4 AM, and was shocked to see how close to the freeway I was, considering how long it took me to get to the farm yesterday. I did have to stop for a quick nap at a rest stop, but by 9 I was turning onto the street I grew up on.
I planned on popping in and shouting, "Surprise!" but once I figured out that my mother was in the shower I thought that might not be a good idea. I didn't want to scare the crap out of her, after all, and I know if I got out of the shower to find someone in the house, even someone I'm happy to see, it just might freak me out. So I sent in a little emissary.
When I heard the shower turn off, I gave her a few minutes, then I pushed Cowboy into the room. "Cowboy!" She exclaimed. "You're finally here!"
And then came the happy reunion. My Mom could finally stop worrying about me being on the road, and I could relax a bit. Which I did, but not for long.
There's a lot to accomplish even before I start focusing on getting the store reopened. I discovered that Massachusetts doesn't honor ANY temporary registration, including the one I've got from California. Driving a vehicle without a license plate on it is a big deal here - who knew?? It's not that unusual in California to see plate-less vehicles driving around that way for months. In fact, I drove the bus that way from May to the end of July without so much as a sideways glance from a cop. Not here. The bus will be stuck in the driveway until I can get a few things squared away.
I have to get permanent insurance before I can register (again, in California it was all too easy to get some just to cover the trip, but it's not valid here). From what I understand it's not really that easy to get insurance for a bus conversion. I'll need a new windshield, too, because unlike California, Massachusetts has safety inspections, which I'll never pass with that crack. I have to get all the boxes out of the bus so I can set up the murphy bed: my brother Sean and his fiancé are occupying the room that will eventually be mine so it would be nice to be able to sleep in the bus instead of on the couch. I'm tired of sharing Cowboy's dog bed, which is what I've been doing on our non-Motel 6 nights on the road. It's not as bad as it sounds, though, because it's a Serta memory foam bed made for a dog 10 times his size. It was a gift from his dear friend Paula at the Barlett Senior Center in Downtown Torrance. We miss everyone there already.
But it's nice to be home.