I'm on my way over to Ohio today. When I arrived at Dad's house, I promptly complained (Imagine that. Me. Complaining. Strange thought, eh?) about the fact the car rental company had run out of compact sized cars, a size I had specifically requested so that I could sleep in the back seat at Poultry Days.

I opened up the van and showed Dad the small back back seat, the only bench seat I could actually sleep on, given the bucket seats in front and in the middle. Dad took one look at inside of the van, and turned to look at me with an expression of, "Are you insane, child?"

An expression which I've noticed heading my way more frequently as of late.

"Looks like a good place to sleep," he commented, as he turned to open the back of the van. Three pulls, two pushes, one grunt and an old heave-ho later, and the back-back seat was folded down into the floor, the two middle seats were folded up, and I had a large flat surface to sleep on, no tent required.

Well, well, well, what do you know? These vans are good for something, eh?

... everything's the same, yet everything's different.

I went for a walk with the dog today. We went around the neighborhood, walking down Dad's street and around the bend, back along the parallel street. I didn't leave enough time for a complete walk, and had to decide whether or not to run along the road, dragging the dog behind me the whole way, or cut across the yards as I used to do when I was 10.

Given the time crunch, I decided to cut across the yards.

Up the driveway I walked, looking up the hill in an attempt to decide which yard to trespass on. When I actually started walking through the neighborhood backyards, I couldn't help but think there are a large number of activities 10 year old girls can get away with that, well, women in their 30s really can't do so easily.

Trespassing through unfamiliar backyards is one of them.

Fortunately, the neighborhood is much (much, much) smaller than I remembered it being, and I was across the yards in no time, back home in time for my phone call.

So much of the neighborhood is the same, though. Sure, it's smaller because I'm bigger. And, hey, there's a really cool playground in the back of one neighbor's yard complete with a really cool merri-go-round and swingset and awesome tree house (oh, to be 10 again!). But the houses are as I remember them. The hills are as I recall them being. The yards are still way green, the road still rough and interesting.

Bharat and I often talked about how cool it would be to have all of our friends living together in one neighborhood. As I walked with the dog I couldn't help but think that this is the neighborhood I'd like all my friends to be in. This is where I'd really enjoy being able to walk to my neighbors, my friends, to see if they wanted to come out to play a game of ultimate, or for communal dinner, or bridge, or Carcasonne.

Not gonna happen, though.

I went to dinner with Dad and Linda tonight. It's funny to watch the two of them are together. Dad is completely ornery and I can say that, Dad, because that's a Hodsden trait as much as being late or being distracted are.

We also drove to 1406, which Linda walks by on some morning walks. The house is looking way run down, which is a shame, really, because it's a lovely house: the original farm house for the area way, way, way back when.

More importantly, the first house i lived in, so it has to be important.

At one point, Linda casually mentioned that a neighbor of hers reads this site, and sometimes updates Linda on my whereabouts and events.

I think the dumb look on my face must have registered to the people I'll be visiting in Ohio tomorrow. I know my jaw took a few moments gathering dust from the restaurant floor.

The only thing I could thing of to say was something along the order of, "Uh....."

So, uh, hi, neighbor who lives next to the house where the Larsons used to live (the Larsons whose son died when I was in junior high school and Chris inherited his motorcycle, not that I can remember the Larson boy's name. Oh, and the trees have grown up a LOT in front of their old house - you can't really see the house for the trees any longer).

Linda asked if that was okay, that her neighbor reads this. I said, sure! because it is. (Did I mention? Hi, Neighbor!) I'll just pretend it's just me here. I hope you don't mind.

Hi, Megan! Hi, Mom! Hi, Roshan! Hi, Cads! Hi, Chookie! Hi, Kris! Hi, Liz!

Oh, and there's a tornado watch on right now for Northwest Indiana. Note to self: when you run downstairs after noticing the sudden drop in air pressure, run to the side with the furnace. That's the southwest side of the house, and the most likely safest spot if the house comes tumblin' down, crumblin' tumblin' dowwwwwwn.

My third soda this year. Fortunately, it doesn't have aspartame in it. It is my first Dr. Pepper this decade and first Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper ever. EVER.

Jenny knows how to feed me right.

So, I arrived at Dad's house last night and promptly passed out. I'm sure Dad was a large bit confused at the fact I passed out at 10:30 at night his time, as it was only 7:30 my time. This is more or less par for the course with me these days, and passing out at 7:30 works just fine for me.

Easy enough to adjust to this timezone this way.