That’s why they call it Mean time

So far, so good.  This year’s road trip is going swimmingly.  We dodged a crazy storm that looked like a wall coming at us…

Literally seven drops of rain fell on the car while we skirted the edge of this monstrosity, and while severe wind made it a little scary to drive, we did fine.  We crossed the border like it wasn’t even there- there was an odd flinch from the border guard at the words "spinning retreat" but he waved us on without anything more.  We bopped along to a fantastic soundtrack (courtesy of both our ipods and the fact that we were both 16 at about the same time) and when it got dark Rachel took the wheel and I knit.

Gripping, I know.  Just a little plain sock start, something I don’t need to be able to see to knit.  (Someone will ask, so the yarn is a STR rare gem, one of a kind colour.)  We blew along, guided by Daniel the GPS, until we quit driving last night in the bustling metropolis of Paw Paw Michigan.  We ate dinner in the only place we could find that wasn’t a fast food place, had something really disappointing called a "Bosco stick" that sounded good but turned out to be deep fried- then screened three hotel/motels, chose the least bates-esque" and went to sleep.

This entry is brought to you by the fact that last night, lying in the hotel room in Paw Paw Michigan, thinking about when to set our alarms, Rachel H and did some mediocre thinking.  If we get up at 7:30, we thought, and boogie out the door by 8:30 we can be in the fine city of Chicago by 10:30.  That would give us time to visit some yarn some nice people, have lunch and then, with almost no effort at all, we could strike out from the city about 12ish, and still be at SOAR by 3:00 like we’re supposed to.  Perfect, we thought, and the plan was struck.  We were both pretty crazy tired, and it was a little late,  and both of us wished that there was another hour or two of sleep in there, but what can you do. Time is what it is.  We set the alarm for 7:30.

The night passed (in our insanely overheated hotel room with the window screen that is actually a magical forcefield that won’t let cool fresh air in) and when we woke up at 7:30 it hit both of us simultaneously.

We’re crossing a time zone line.  We start driving here in Eastern time, and pretty quick, before Chicago for sure, whammo.  Central time hits you like a large wet fish and it’s an hour earlier.   We could totally have slept another hour.

That’s the sort of thing a GPS should tell you.