Sitting in Lincoln Square pancake house eating lunch (Not telling you what I’m eating, because it’s a day for being bad). Of course, we’re wired, of course.

We’re in Indiana, which is very Indiana, especially so: grey skies over farm fields just showing the burn of autumn.

Here’s what you missed yesterday due to our poor Internet connection:

Great scenery. Every time I amble through Western North Carolina I feel as if I’m riding through my family’s history, imagining what they saw when they passed through here in the eighteenth century,or a few years after its close.
Erasing the highways and billboards and the occasional cabin seen from the Interstate leaves you with towering rocks, incredible diversity of green-leaved trees just burning to autumn, and water falling from incisions in the cliffs. I can just remember before the Interstate, when we twisted our way up corkscrew roads beside water falling, falling, falling to the valleys below. So blessed to see those distant blue memories.

Of course, there’s also the roadside flora and fauna and co-Travellers.

Yesterday we pulled into a rest stop with pretty flowers along the split rail fence

Then did a double take while passing a car in the next space over. Is that a . . . ?

Today we’re flowing over the Indiana prairie, handling a few details via 4G about the upcoming Jane’s Stories retreat where I’m speaking on reviving manuscripts that seem hopeless, and rehearsing what I want to tell audiences about writing the story of Eve, Maisie, and Evangeline.

Happy Friday to everyone!

Glenda

P.S. Let’s see if we can squeeze I this video of Ed answering the question of how it feels to be accompanying his partner on this tour:

Well, no, the video doesn’t want to load. We’ll try it later. But the photo above shows you my partner’s mood at the start of the trip. Very philosophical. I promise you, his answer was great, and I’ll get it to you later!