The Bus Ride

Chester, checkin' for squirrels.

Fridays is our day to visit and share tail wags with our friends on the Alzheimer's floor at a nearby retirement community. This past Friday,  rather than visit inside, we joined a handful of men and women on a bus ride, over the meadow and through the woods.

Oh my.  Never have I had so much fun on a bus!

It was a gorgeous day, bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, the fields  lush and green,  trees laden with lavender, white, pink blossoms.  The perfect day for a ride through Amish Farm Country.

Riding in a small van like bus over hill and dale is an adventure. No matter how slow you go, or how careful you take the turns, it is bounce, bounce, BOUNCY, when you are in the back.

One dear woman, grinned and held on for dear life....her constant comment, with every turn we took, was "eeeee Gods.....eeee Gods!"  It was like background music.

I pointed out cows and horses, Amish clotheslines heavy with clothes whipping in the wind, teams of mules tilling the soil for spring planting, tulips and daffodils.  Our eight bouncing passengers looked at the sights, to the sound of "eeee Gods, eeee Gods" with every hill and bend in the road.

Chester swayed to the turns and bumps. Each time I told him "hang on", he braced for another curve.

Towards the end of our journey, we hit quite a bump....and from front to back, heads bobbed up and down, ...picture ~~ the people on the bus go up and down up and down up and down.  And then I heard, "Whoa, I left my ass in that hole!"   I turned and saw a smiling grey-haired gentle-man.....with a twinkle in his eye, holding on tightly to the seat in front of him.

Ohmy, I started giggling and could not stop.

The bus driver looked in her rear view mirror and said, "That's Frank (name changed).  You just gotta love Frank, he always tells it like it is!"  "Frank, tell Diane and Chester who you are, about your mom and dad!"  She whispered to me that Frank's Mom was Portuguese and his Dad was Norwegian.  I thought, what a grand combo of cultures blended into one sweet-spunky man.

Chester and I turned to face grinning Frank.  "Frank, tell us who you are!"

"FRANK!" Frank replied.  Head bobbing up and down and swaying with the bus ride. 

I smiled, Chester did too. "Good to meet you, Frank!  Tell me about your parents, and your heritage, what do you call yourself!"

Shouting and Beaming, "Oh, I'm Portu-wegian!!! My Mom was Portuguese, and my Dad, he was Norwegian, I'm Portu-wegian!" 

I smiled back at him, "Frank, I've never me a Portu-wegian before!"

Frank's eyebrows rose, and his face lit up with a surprised expression that said,  NO WAY! , then he proudly proclaimed, " Well, .... I'm Portu-wegian!" 

I could not stop laughing.

Frank beamed.  His innocence, smile, and humor, brought joy to my soul.

Chester shook his head and braced for another turn.

Over the meadow and through the woods...
"eee Gods"... laughter is good for the soul.