Home, Jack!

Chauffeur. Driver.

Sounds luxurious. Carefree.    Expensive.

I’ve not calculated it. But my guess is that over 99% of the time I’m in a car, I’m the driver. On the odd time I’m not — it’s a luxury. Unless I’ve been requested to navigate I have options. Enjoy the scenery. Look over the edge and check the flood or drought stage of the river. Not think about which streets are one way. Or will the other drivers play nice and take turns at the four-way stop?

My parents picked up the phrase from a movie. Yes, they actually had “talking pictures” at that time. And to the end of his life, when dad got into a car as a passenger it was “Home, James.”

The ride below looks like a treat. On a sunny fall day. With a trained horse. But the driver is not James —

Take us home, Jack!
Take us home, Jack!

Starr Tree Farm includes five acres of pumpkin patch!  Check it out at Amazon or Barnes & Noble.


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