After a month, an extended stay, a long weekend, or even a stressful day at work, there is no better feeling than finding your way back to your own space, your own room, your own bed.
But, if you're lucky, the journey home can be as gratifying as the feeling of finding your way back. Such one return trip took place this weekend.
Before we got out of Fergus Falls, we needed gas. So, because Fergy Ferg just happens to be in the 218, we made a pit stop at Casey's, everyone's favorite general store and gas station. Inside, donuts were freshly baked (pulled from a box in the back with thawing instructions), quality meat was available for purchase (Slim Jims were on sale if you bought four or more and, let's be honest, who is ever buying less than six?), and slow cooked, artfully prepared hot food had just been gingerly pulled from the oven (a slice or two of breakfast pizza had just popped out of the microwave and found it's way to a rotating heat rack).
Ah yes, everything was right in the world.
Inside, we bought snacks. Gardettos and a water for Kyle; string cheese, water, and a pack of pistachios for Sib; and string cheese, peanut butter and crackers, and water for me. Sibley also purchased a glass bottle of Coke, which I happily opened using a cement fence and my bare hands because I AM THE FUCKING MAN.
We spent the first while in silence, listening to music, commenting here and there about our night (during which we recounted the intensity of how I share a sleeping space. Spoiler alert: there's very aggressive spooning. See picture.), and closing our eyes behind our shades.
After a period of slight boredom, I suggested we play a game. So Sibley told us about "I Going on a Camping Trip" which, basically, is a car game that requires a knowledge of the alphabet and a good working memory for ridiculousity. It starts like this: "I'm going on a camping trip and I'm bringing (word that starts with A)." The next person repeats the phrase, the item with the letter A, and then adds something with the letter B. And so on. Twenty six rounds later, you repeat each of the camping provisions together.
Here was the start to our second shot at the game.
Eventually, we decided that Sibley reading to us from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire would be more enjoyable than music and, goodness, were we correct.
As it turns out, Sibley's interpretations of JK's famous characters were more or less spot on. She did, however, take some liberties with the storyline.
I think they call it creative license?
After a grueling crawl home, we arrived in the City of Lakes.
This weekend served as a much needed reminder that life outside of Minneapolis can be just as rewarding as time spent in the city. Perhaps 48 hours away from downtown drivers, uptown hipsters, an unhealthy addiction to Bull Run Coffee was precisely what the doctor ordered.
But, damn, did it feel nice to be home.