Good morning.

Another 3,000 miles completed on the superslab.


Despite the planning and anticipation, it turned into a rather pensive trip. Papa TriSec took another fall, and has been in-hospital for most of my run. The Life-Alert button paid for itself within 4 days. He's better now, but could not be discharged back to home, so he is resting comfortably with Brother TriSec, who fortunately has a big house on four acres in Southern NH. But I do fear the end times have begun.

Worries for another time. I'm fairly amazed by how easy the drive was this time. There was never any real traffic, southbound or northbound, other than local rush-hour sort of stuff. NYC and DC were transitioned easily, and even the notorious stretch between Washington and Richmond seemed to be deserted. It was really weird.

In Florida though, I find my aunt in hardly better shape than my father. She's nearly 80, and has a bad hip. She can barely move at all these days, but fortunately everything is on the level in the Sunshine State. I can't predict what will happen in coming years, but whatever does - the 1,500 miles to Lake Worth are going to be a considerable challenge when that time comes.

The focus of the trip was indeed baseball - I managed to tick off a spring training game, and another road game on the ol' bucket list. Ballpark of the Palm Beaches is rather nice. Surprisingly, I paid regular-season prices for my ticket. But instead of way out in the bleachers, I was sitting second row right at third base.

Of course, I can't go to Florida without checking in with the mouse. It's still off-season in Boston, and there were a bunch of conductors travelling in the Sunshine state. While we couldn't all meet up, I did meet with a friend and his wife at EPCOT, and they dragged along some of their friends from Florida. Allegedly an attempt at "drinking around the world", but we were rather low-key and behaved ourselves after all.

An easy drive northbound, as noted - and here I am. Uncertain of what the future holds on the family front. Pops turns 90 this Wednesday. Every day is a blessing at this point.