(yeah, yeah, I know it’s December 8th. This post has been sitting in my files for a couple of weeks. Enjoy!)
As I am writing, I am finding myself sitting in what appears to be an endless line of cars on I-75, somewhere north of Chattanooga. My mother is driving (and what a trooper she has been to drive all the way from Cincinnati, despite our offerings to trade) and my sister is watching a movie via iPad. Stephen is beside me, sound asleep, and wakes up only when his phone vibrates with the updated score of the Falcons-Vikings game.
Happy Thanksgiving.
It really was a good one. I had 3 feasts belonging to each branch of my family, including the step-family who resides in Northern Kentucky. Henceforth, I am in a car returning to the Peach state this glorious, rainy Sunday.
Stephen hasn’t slept the entire trip until an hour ago after a CrunchWrap and a Diet Dew from Taco Bell. He read The Hunger Games ‘til 3 in the morning last night and then continued reading all the way through Kentucky and most of Tennessee until he finish, a mere 15 hours after I loaned it to him.
I finished it myself yesterday, but I certainly didn’t read it as fast as he did. I got it a week or two ago and read casually until a couple of days ago when I got hooked. Until I finished, I would read whenever I could. It’s a thrilling read.
Since then, I’ve been imagining myself as a hunter in the woods, bow and arrow loaded. Not hard to picture myself with a bow and arrow- I got trained to be an archery instructor this summer (which has nothing to do with my ability, believe me) but I’ve seen many an arrow leave bows in my hands since May, when I got trained and badly sunburned.
I picture myself, bow and arrow, in the woods. I had to pick the perfect scene, so, of course, I picked Camp Glisson, where I worked the past 3 summers and where the lay of the land is a wooded paradise. Yes, I picked a Christian camp as a comparable setting to the bloodbath which is The Hunger Games. You would, too.
Camp Glisson is not only one of my most favorite places on earth with the waterfall, hiking trails through wooded hills, and beautiful people, it’s only my go to if some kind of apocalyptic event occurs.
Dead serious. I’ve dreamed of it before.
I dreamed that China invaded America (this is your brain on college) and put the cities and highways on lockdown. Stephen and I decided to set a course for camp, where we could survive on the land and supplies for a little while. Somehow, Stephen and I escaped in a car and decided that, as soon as we got to the first highway checkpoint, we would ditch the car and hike the rest of the way.
Which we did, since our trip wasn’t authorized. We hiked alongside the road and camped out in tents until we made it to camp. We lived at Outpost, the rustic, and most isolated, part of camp until the mayhem had settled into normalcy.
Yeah, you may dream about forgetting to wear pants or not studying for your math test, but I dream about post-apocalyptic journeys to safe havens. I’m a unique individual. I dreamed this before I read the book… so I guess I’m already wired to run with Katniss every step of the way as she maneuvers through the games.
That being said, I picture myself with a bow and quiver at my favorite place in the world in an easy way.
The traffic has loosened and we are now cruising at a solid 60 mph through the pouring rain (which must be parked over I-75.) It has been a good Thanksgiving.
I yet predict what next year will hold… I’ll be several months married by then and who know what part of the country I will be in. Don’t worry though- if there’s an apocalyptic event, you know where to find me.
