The flaw in the plan for getting to Seattle was not getting to Seattle, which I do expect to occur in the fullness of time. The flaw was expecting my dear husband to get to my place of business. About 15 minutes after I started fretting, I got a call. “I’m lost.”
“Where are you? Are there signs?”
“I’m in a parking space labelled “Fishery.”
Oh dear. Oh d-d-d-d-d-dear, dear, dear.
The above dialogue has been cut for humor at Matt’s expense, but did actually occur.
Comments
Epilogue
It later on transpired that I was not nearly so lost as I thought. I needed to be on Macadam south, and I had in fact been on Macadam south just before I parked. I just didn’t know that because of the distinctly confusing nature of the signage in the area.
Felicity’s directions were great, but reading directions while driving is always difficult. I really wish I had a nice piece of GPS mapping software with voice synthesis.