So, there are two ways to get to my house, the straight route and the scenic route.
The only thing straight about the straight route is that it follows roads that are straight through neighborhoods of new construction. Pristine white vinyl fences, infant stick trees, and manicured, freshly landscaped yards. On this road, people are jogging for exercise, walking their dogs on leashes.
The scenic route winds down through the middle of the neighborhoods, golf course on one side, lake on the other. It weaves in and around older homes with character, mature trees, and a lot of yards that are grown and exhibit a little bit of country charm. Here, kids are playing with their friends, neighbors are talking to each other, drivers are waving as they pass each other, dogs are sniffing around back yards surrounded by hedges and little picket fences.
It sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. I almost always take the scenic route.
Last night as I was traveling home, I was thinking how long it always seems when you take the scenic route. It's about a mile from the main turn off and if you were to time it, it would only take two or three minutes to travel. But it seems like forever, like the longest part of the trip from Salt Lake. So anyway, I was thinking about this and how it's sort of like life, how it seems to take forever, but it's really supposed to be like the blink of an eye. But, that's about as far as I got in the analogy because then I got home.
So, I can't moralize it up for you today, but I thought I'd change the look of my blog anyway. As Sheriff always says, (at least he will when I make him), that's something to chew on.