Sunday morning, I booted the dog out into the stormy weather and then made my way to Fayetville AR for the Listen To Your Mother NW Arkansas. This was the first road for the new car and the first time I used the iPod adapter for the car. I believe that this is number one most wonderful invention of my time: the iPod connector to the car. I have had adapters that were meant to work through the cigarette lighter that required more futzing with then listening to. But this? This thing where the iPod sincs right up with the car? WTF? It totally validates the only reason for getting the new car. Well, that the whole safety thing. So, I bee-bopped my way down Hwy 71 through thunder and lightening and a few loop-de-loops (Joplin confused me) to see Misti and hear her wonderful words.
But it seemed that Fayetville was not content to just have one thing happening in their town that day. There was also bicycle race (like the Tour de France kind) going on and streets were blocked off in odd ways so that in order to get to the theater, you had to figure out the maze. In a car. Then I crossed the street after a group of cyclist zoomed by only to see another one coming. I had almost made it to the other side when a photographer lifted his GINORMOUS lens. I was stuck between getting in his way of the shot and being run down by a cyclist. I paused sort of between the two and could feel the breeze of the cyclist as she zoomed behind me. Thrilling.
You know what else was thrilling? The Listen To Your Mother show. I sat in the audience and watched groups of women come in, many faces that I had seen at the BlogHer conferences and then I saw the entire place fill up. One by one we heard the stories. Stories that made me laugh and cry and empathize. But I have to say, I cried the most when Misti spoke. It wasn’t the words that got me so much as just that she was there. I cried because Chris wasn’t there. I cried because I was so dang proud of her. It was wonderful. After show, me and my car got shuttled between Misti’s sister and Misti so I could follow them all back to Misti’s mom’s for dinner. We laughed and ate good food and I was welcomed into their home like family and I could have easily stayed. But I remembered my poor puppy outside in the rain, starving and pathetic and I decided it would be better to go home and rescue him. And that’s how I ended a very lovely weekend.