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Tuesday, June 10, 2014

There’s a Lot of Scary Movies That Start This Way…

Apparently a weekend writing retreat can mess you up, date-wise.

This was to have posted Monday.  /sigh/

Dateline, rural Michigan.

I’ve always wanted to say that. 

I’ve been in the state for a good 24 hours now, and slowly but surely I am getting over the idea that I will disappear, my luggage discovered at a wayside rest, my prescription sunglasses found by the police outside of a gas station.

I feel about the country how many people feel about cities.

The bed and breakfast at which I am staying has loaned me the use of a car, a Land Rover of indeterminate age.

“First of all,” she says, “she stalls sometimes.  Not a full stall, not most of the time anyway.  So don’t freak.  If it floods, it will only be for a little while.”

She takes a sip of her coffee. 

“Right,” she says.  “Directions.  So!  You take a right out of the front entrance.  You go past the old Schmidt place, the big white place that needs a new roof.  Anyway, there’s a gravel road just after the stand of trees – whatever you do, don’t take that road!  Go another click or two, then take a right at the painted rock, drive around the lake, and you’ll come out where the ballroom used to be and voila!  You’ve arrived.”

An internal shudder runs through me.

“I’m leaving for my writer’s workshop,” I post on Facebook.  “I am wearing a pink and brown patterned dress.  If you later see this dress at a garage sale, alert the authorities and whatever you do, DO NOT BUY THE JERKY!”



I’m sure I’ll live. 

30 comments:

Optimistic Existentialist said...

You had me at "whatever you do, don’t take that road" LOL

joeh said...

And just how many big white places that needed a new roof were there?

Pearl said...

OE, :-)

joeh, do you know, I actually tried to get to one of the dinners one night with a practice drive to the restaurant -- and got lost! Luckily , I pretty much dead-ended at a lake (possibly even Lake Michigan) and turned around... Gorgeous country, really, but like many accustomed to the city, I found the back roads to be intimidating!

Rosemarie Blackthorn said...

The fact you post this suggests there were no banjo players around.

And yes, I totally understand what you mean. It's strange in rural parts. You can't order pizza at 1 am.

Indigo Roth said...

Bah, too slow for banjo jokes...

See/hear any piggies?

Should Fish More said...

I know that place! They have really good BBQ.........

Jocelyn said...

From this day forth, all my talk of distance is going to include the word "clicks." I've been remiss until now. No more "miles" for me. Clicks it is.

Delores said...

Aye...you'll pass a big white house...that's not it....if see a pine tree with its stump blasted by lightning you've gone too far.
I'll keep an eye out for that dress.

bill lisleman said...

Funny - reminds of finding places in the nowhere place my brother lives. It's in the middle of the Ozarks.

jenny_o said...

I feel like this when I drive in any strange place, not just the country. And by strange place, I mean anywhere outside of my small town, and a few areas inside of it, too. And just for the record, I NEVER buy jerky.

Mitchell is Moving said...

I wonder what would have happened had you taken "that road."

I've never been there but I've always known it was where the ballroom used to be.

Eva Gallant said...

Hope you found your way and didn't take that gravel road by mistake!

Catalyst/Taylor said...

Watch out for werewolves. The Michigan kind are among the worst.

Silliyak said...

How do we even know it's really you? Please submit the "password" you said you would use to prove it was you in case "anything odd" happened.

vanilla said...

Not worried. The fact that you caught the non-post Monday tells us all is well. Or at the least, that you are alive and in possession of some of your senses.

Elephant's Child said...

And you turn left where Johnson's house used to be. Until it burnt down forty years ago...

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari Om
oh. An adventure is afoot... all good then. YAM xx

Joanne Noragon said...

The most existential direction I've ever been given: "right where the road meets the sky, turn left."

Leenie B said...

Notes to self: 1. Watch for pink and brown dresses at the thrift shops and garage sales.
2. Give up jerky.

Gigi said...

I'm going to assume that since this didn't post on Monday and then it magically appeared on Tuesday that you are alive.

I once received directions in a small, backwater that told me to turn right at Church's Chicken. Neglected to mention that the Church's Chicken had been closed for several years and was now a Burger King and that it should have been a left.

Sioux said...

Where's a bus when you need one?

Launna said...

OMG.. I am with you Pearl... I would so much rather the city over the country... lol

Geo. said...

Be vigilant. There are racoons crossing the road. They make your car tip over. We lost a good Mazda there like that. Really, drive carefully!

River said...

Why even mention the gravel road I wonder? Why not just say drive until you see the painted rock and turn there?
Glad you made it back safely. I once had a pink and brown patterned dress.

Rose L said...

LOL You are so funny!!

Jo-Anne Meadows said...

Oh my goodness this really cracked me up and I needed a good laugh

Diane Tolley said...

Bwahahaha! I used to sell stitchery at home parties and the instructions to get to people's homes were priceless! Turn at the red barn that used to be white. Follow the road till it turns to gravel, then turn in at the first gate. You'll have to open it. Make sure you close it. We don't want the bull to get out. Oh, the memories! :)

Chicken said...

Wait, they let you borrow their car? they sound like trusting folk. Did you ever turn at the gravel road? There's material there, I'm sure. Look what it did for Robert Frost all those years ago.

Daisy said...

Now you see, I would feel right at home there. Your tales about city life and riding the bus are the ones that frighten me. :-)

Drake Sigar said...

Don't visit seemingly abandoned shacks, especially if the inside is decorated with hands in glass jars.