That post title could be misleading if there is a town named Back. Yes, that is the state my mind is in. I started driving about 7:30 am to the western side of Cincinnati and then I got back some time around five . . . I think. Alison’s mother is very sick and I took her down.
I think I am a little tired. But I wasn’t too tired to pop into Crate & Barrel at Keystone in Indianapolis. On the way down, I used Ind.9 as a connector between I-69 and I-74; I thought I’d give it a 55 mph plus towns and stoplight trial as an alternative to taking I-465, which I find to always be under construction. It is also one of those roads that requires knowing insider information about both which lane when and the key word for the exit to the part of town you want.

I was glad I’d taken Ind. 9 because it started to rain and when I flipped on my wipers, I discovered they had experienced their last hurrah. I spotted an auto store, turned in and walked out with super wipers; I could not only see, but they didn’t make an awful noise. Then, on the way back, I thought that, well, going on the Indianapolis loop wouldn’t be bad on a Sunday and Crate & Barrel is practically a stone’s throw from the road.

There was the part about remembering that you have to take an actual exit AFTER you have exited the loop to get from Meridian to 86th . . . but it worked out okay. I pulled my crunched-up Buick into a parking place along side all the BIG and shiny SUV’s and walked in and around without breaking anything. I also bought about 8 sale glasses as a treat for moi. And I confidently chatted with the salesclerk as if I were driving a BIG shiny SUV. I don’t know if I pulled it off or not. Like I said, though, I didn’t break anything.

I-69 just after exiting I-465 was a mess and, fortunately, it was not a weekday. Barrels and signs about delays abounded. Traffic was heavier than I expected and I started to feel as if everyone had been told the cops had taken the day off. I stayed at a steady 75 and was passed lots of times . . . I may have passed a couple of cars. I remember I went around an RV that looked like a giant Brink’s truck – all grey and buttoned up.

The miles to Fort Wayne clicked down slowly and I went from planning to stop for a taco to just getting back. I see this has turned out to be like an obligatory book report – so let’s just say: that’s all she wrote.