It’s Not Home Until You Barf in It

If that’s not an aphorism, I’m establishing it now.

You know that I’ve felt like the trailer is “home” ever since we moved into it. I say things like, ”Okay, time to go home,” and I feel that deep sense of relaxation when I walk in.

However, although I had been sick as a dog in the trailer when I had Covid on Mars, I had yet to experience the unique condition of running to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth.

Well, that’s happened, and I can say unequivocally that the trailer is now fully my home. (Luckily, I made it to my intended receptical in time; there’s not much space for clean up in a trailer.)

Lemme backtrack a little to the good stuff.

Cedar Falls

After we left Elkader, Iowa, we drove to Tracy’s hometown of Cedar Falls.

First stop: we met another of Tracy’s high-school crew, Ron (hi Ron!) closer to Des Moines for dinner. Ron is maybe Tracy’s only old friend whom I can safely start the conversation with a deep dive into James Joyce. Always a stimulating visit!

Please keep posting your writing, Ron, and update us on your wonderpower kids. I wish we could share stories more often.

Okay, here’s the connection with my title.

That morning, I’d had a ridiculously strong seasonal-allergy attack, sneezing until I was sneezed out and then sleeping in the truck, missing the beauty of Iowa as we drove through.

I pulled myself together for our dinner with Ron but felt lethargic that night, so I chose to stay home the next day when Tracy met his cousins for lunch. I heard that Mary and Gary (Tracy’s father’s side) hosted a fun lunch, especially for Banjo, who got to run in the fenced-in yard and even sniff around in the house. Hope I get to see you guys next year! (And I’m bummed no one took photos!)

Tracy then went into town to catch up with four friends (two of them pictured here in a recycled shot because I’m the photographer and, I can’t stress enough, was not there).

The friends had their annual catch-up without me at Single Speed Brewery in Cedar Falls. Tracy tells bits here and there, but I didn’t get the full story, and now I really feel like I’ve missed out.

Back at the trailer, my allergies had gotten so bad that my body decided to reject all alien substances, which meant a lot of barfing, so I then was reduced to lying in a stupor in the trailer like a zombie. Allergies do this to me maybe once a decade, and it’s a doozie. (I tested for Covid twice and Tracy tested once, just to be sure.)

So, that was it for Iowa. No trip to Des Moines for tattoo work, no driving through the prairies or seeing bison, no trip to Maid Rite for loose meat sandwiches.

We will be back, though, and maybe by then Covid won’t slow us down or freak me out so much when it turns out I just have allergies.

2 thoughts to “It’s Not Home Until You Barf in It”

    1. I sneezed until I couldn’t sneeze any more, and that’s the truth. I used to get like that as a kid, and I’d have to lie down with a wet towel on my head for hours. Finn used to get like that, plus my sister. Thought I’d grown out of it!