The drive down to Pennsylvania went off without a hitch and with a minimum of bitch. The car, a four-door Taurus, was not white, but gold. Actually, it was closer to champagne, but “gold” is what Hertz called it, so gold it is. Who am I to say what’s what, anyway, right?
The biggest excitement of the ride was my dash into a Wal-Mart in the middle of Flannelshirttown, PA to use the ladies room. I cut quite a smashing figure as my heels clacked their New York pace on the rural floors. “She must be one of them New York Jews we saw on the TEEvee,” someone said as I zoomed by. I was not thanked by the jovial, matronly “greeter” for coming to Wal-Mart on my way out, though, the way everyone else was. What a relief.
Things progressed nicely at my brother’s house. Although nothing makes him happier than to rib me about my relative veganism, he still catered to my tastes:

All the makin’s of a fine puddin’. And brofu, expertly seasoned and seared.
He is such a fine host, and so considerate and accommodating, that after we froze our respective (and respected) asses off standing out back viewing the eclipse:

… he set up a little camping chair in his huge living room, so I could enjoy the view without having to deal with the pesky great outdoors. Talk about a room with a view!

“Oh look, everyone, Jodi’s camping!” he said. And elaborated about how he envisioned me dressed as Jackie O, enjoying a relaxed rustic moment.
He extended every courtesy to me, to make me feel at home in his. So I felt that one of my gifts to him — a telescopic extending fork — was only appropriate:

That’s my sister on the right side of the frame, quite pixellated. (Oh, Sis! That’s what happens when you have one too many vodka and Diet Cokes!) If the fork extended just a little more, it could have reached the moon, but as it was, the only thing it reached was my plate of pasta puttanesca!
However, since we are very resourceful sorts, we found other ways to amuse ourselves. And amuse ourselves we did, once we realized that given that the earth was casting its shadow on the moon, we could put on a whimsical shadow puppet show not only for own benefit … but for all the world to enjoy! So if you saw a shadow that looked like a floppy-eared rabbit romping across the surface of the moon, that was my handiwork. And if you saw Richard Nixon doing something unspeakable to John Dean, that would be my brother’s.
As a bonus, and to show my appreciation for the wonderful accommodations and good time, I did not warble “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, as I’d planned.
Maybe next time!