… In Indiana. Where it seems, that I can see. The gleaming candle light, still shining bright, through the sycamores, for me.
The new mown hay, with all it’s fragrance, in the fields, I used to roam.
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash … then I long for my Indiana home.
Except it’s not really home any more. And I’m not anywhere NEAR the Wabash river. It’s 150 or so miles to the West of here. But no matter.
First, let me say that buying “Business Priority” on Southwest Airlines was a waste of money. Really. I had A 02 … I should have been the second person aboard the airplane. But by the time the pre-boarders got on … with their entourages … I might as well have paid the low fare. The seats are the same seats, not nice, big, comfy business class seats, and the jerk in front of me flopped his seat all the way back as soon as the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. He stayed there until time to “raise your tray tables and seat backs to their full, upright position” on the descent into Indianapolis. I’m not a small person, so when he glared at me and said something about my hitting his seat back, I said “Dude, your, in my lap. Give me a freaking break.”. He didn’t say anything after that. It was a darned expensive plastic glass of mediocre red wine … but I drank it, even though it was only shortly after noon.
Anyway, Mom’s here so I need to go talk to her. I’ll post some pictures of the house later.