My love for driving fast is well-known around the little circle I call home.  So are the results of that fast driving:  speeding tickets.

But the thrill of taking those curves, the quick arrival time — well, that last one is a bit of an oxymoron.  I realize that.  Me… quick arrival time.  That seems to indicate that I arrive in a timely fashion.

Therein lies the problem!!  Or joy!!!  All in the perspective.  My love for the furious and fast delivery has been predicated by my lack of punctual ability; therefore, I must go fast. Ah, yes.  That sounds so much better than, “I’m always late because I can’t get it together.”

Back years ago there was this little number that I drove around.  A fun little ride.

But now, post-Steve, I have come to appreciate the joy of traveling gently.  Driving casually down the road, enjoying the view, noticing my surroundings.  He has helped broaden my horizons, to see the forest instead of the tree.

I like that.  A lot.

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