I am entering a five day period of transition:
Day one (today):
One daughter leaves for her east coast home. The other remains in Chicago and so I stay here as well. For one more day.
Tomorrow, other daughter leaves Chicago for her east coast home (along with Obama – but she wouldn't have known that, initially...) and I leave for my Madison home (no one of note is speeding north on I 90 along with me).
On Monday, I deliver finished work to the Law School and pick up the next stack of papers for the week ahead. At home, I finish unpacking. And then I pack again.
Early on Tuesday, I take my work, my camera, but not my occasional traveling companion (who thinks traveling within four weeks of the last trip is weird) and I head really really south, to where it is warm.
If the skies remain friendly and I make my four connections, I will get there! – a place where I hope to pick up enough warmth (in the space of a week) to sustain me for the remaining 65 days of winter. But that’s running too much ahead of myself. Let’s get back to this day.
Day one, revisited:
I had wanted to get work done (the old semester has to be wrapped up and the new one is just two weeks away), but instead, I spent the morning chasing down Chicago police. Catching up with a squad car, I asked them to follow me back to this spot:
I wanted them to acknowledge the terrible parking wrong that had befallen me here. I was being fined? Huge sums? For what reason??? (Note street sign is blank. Whited out. So no parking restrictions, correct?)
Still, it being Chicago, no one would tear up the ill-written ticket for me. Ah well. I will participate in the silly appeals process. Forgive me if I sound cynical. Unfairly issued parking tickets, car towings, failed appeals, hours wasted on documenting my side of the parking story -- these have happened to me before here.
I feel that I am ready for week in the south.