Taking the long way home

Well, I talked him into it again. Fifth year in a row. Either I'm an extraordinarily persuasive person, or Greg is extraordinarily loving. (I suspect it's the latter.)

It's the dreaded 1,800 mile road trip from Houston to upstate New York. My hometown of New Hartford is set to the east of Syracuse in a semi-rural part of the state with rolling hills and snowy winters. Greg handles this trip with grace and aplomb, as you'll see in a post he did last year called 'King of the Road.' 

I had declared that this time we'd just fly up for a short visit, but little Cowboy Jack's kidney disease has inevitably progressed, and we're pretty certain this will be the last time my Dad has the opportunity to cuddle with the dog, and slip bits of food into Jack's waiting mouth when he thinks we're not watching.

Seems like a quick trip to me. I sleep through 97% of it.

So, you do the crazy long drive. For family. For snow. For tradition. For wings at Cavallo's. For love. 

Now, I must get back to some deadlines. And the list for Greg to reassure him that the drive won't be too unbearable....

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