Monday, June 16, 2014

Supporting my husband (via color, on the road)

This thing happens when I am a passenger in a car... The sun streaming in, the drone of the road, the reclining seats. Chick-a-dees, I love sleeping in the car. LOVE it. Understandably though, Keith doesn't like my napping habit because it leaves him in a 9 hour interstate stare-down.
So, in an effort to be a more supportive roadtrip companion and keep myself awake, I created a little game for us: Collect The Colors. The only rule: It has to be on a semi. Keith drove and I had my phone perched against the window, on-the-ready for picture taking.

There are some really awesome, flamboyantly colored cabs. Lime, aqua, daisy yellow. Almost all of them were heading in the opposite direction, naturally :(

People, there was a PINK semi cab. I saw it. The trees broke away from the interstate as it rounded the corner and a beam of sunlight, straight from heaven, lit upon it. It was too much.
My excitement spilled out in a gasp/shriek/flailing motion which, apparently, scared Keith because then I was getting scolded for making him think something catastrophic happened. It kinda hurt my feelings that he didn't share my joy but I was to busy watching that truck slip further and further away in opposite direction to *calmly voice how I was feeling* back. I seriously considered having him find an exit and track that thing down. I probably would have but we had just passed stopped traffic. Curse you, construction.

All that to say that between a bit of Creedence, Glitch Mob and color hunting, during our entire trip of Indiana - Mississippi - Texas and back, I slept a VERY miniscule amount and had a lot more fun than looking to complete the alphabet with license plates.


  1. That is such a rad idea! Safe travels!!

  2. This is certainly a far more interesting activity than what my grandmother always encouraged us kids to do--count the silos. :) So awesome that you saw so many colors!

    1. I'm not sure that would work anymore. Keith and I just had a conversation about how few there are now-a-days. (riveting married life convo that makes us sound like old geezers)