SITTING ON THE SIDELINES

I don't sit on the sidelines very well, especially when it comes to being apart from Craig and he goes off on his own. But when Craig was bribed by my Mom, with a truck full of home baked goods, in exchange for leaving me with her for a week, you can imagine how quickly he kicked me out of the truck. Yes, the way to a man's heart and soul is directly through his stomach.
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When I left Craig in French Camp on Sunday, brownie crumbs already on his shirt, he had the six deliveries of the boxed meat, waiting for him in Stockton and Madera. In the early morning hours today, he started his first delivery at 4am and by noon, he was in Ripon fueling up, and heading towards his last drop in Madera. All went smoothly, and when he went empty he was advised to dead head to Salinas for a load out of Fresh Express on Tuesday.
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Here I sit, monitoring his route and the possible locations he could be sent, and trying to figure out if he will run into any winter weather problems when he heads up North. Not that I can do anything to change it, or help the situation, but it is always difficult to sit back and watch from the sidelines. Mom is baking some almond bread as I type this. I'd like to think of it as an enticement to have him hurry back and pick me up, but I may find myself still here on his next pass by as he happily munches on that darn almond bread going down the road.