Bonnie Blue

The bus, not myself. However, now that you mention it, I walked into my kitchen naked to make coffee before posting my blog tonight. I’m tired, it’s a Friday. I worked hard on the bus today. Coffee sounded better than sleep. I live in a condo. Basically a big rectangle, 39 foot by 21 foot wide. Really it’s two rectangles, side by side. If you knew me when we lived in that motor home, a single wide with the living room we built beside it, its a lot like that. The two bedrooms and two baths make up the left side of the condo, and they go the whole 39 feet. The living dining and open kitchen all make up the right side. That living space is about 31 feet, with a front patio and a back screened in porch, about four foot deep each. That’s the open rectangle, there’s no wall between the front door and the back slider. A small square window in the kitchen that looks out onto the parking spots. My neighbor upstairs uses that one, I park in front of the bedroom window. I don’t use half ...

     You always start at the beginning of a story. This story is about a bus, so we should probably start there, walking into the school district office to receive the title and keys. But really, shouldn’t it include the plane trip from Savannah to Newark, and the Uber ride out to Ocean Township? If this story is really about a bus then maybe I should include the hours spent on the auction website watching, not only this bus, but several others, wondering which one I would be calling home. And there are the trips out to test drive a few buses, Eleanor was one of them. I almost called her home, but really, she was looking her age, and was going to need some attention.      But no, this isn’t Eleanor’s story, so let’s not get too sidetracked. This is a travel story. It said so in the title. Sure the blog will be about the bus, Bonnie Blue, by the way. She just gave me her name not 20 minutes ago. It’s 6:30 in the morning. I fell asle...