Minneapolis

Cherie, Bill; Greg, Penny; Harley, Teresa, Keith and Suzanne

It's been a full several days, visiting several groups or families each day.

 

As we landed in the Minneapolis area, we parked in the driveway of Greg and Penny, a nephew by Gail’s sister and his wife.  We were also met by grandson Vincent who sends afternoons with grandma until his parents finish their workdays.  Greg has been a musician throughout his education, his early career and now in retirement.  There was a stretch when he worked IT security.  Now he plays bass with several groups and builds string instruments, most recently ukuleles.

 

The next morning, we stopped by for tea and bagels at my second cousin on my father’s side – Marlene Hoerauf and Don Walth.  We’ve been in contact periodically over the years regarding family history.  She has boxes of family data and stories.  Exciting!

 

That evening we drove a bit south for a meal with cousins Harley and Keith Saxowsky and their spouses Teresa and Suzanne.  Harley is retired IT.  Keith is retired as well and spent some of the winter in southern Arizona where he has engaged in creating stained glass windows and with the aid of a community kiln fused glass bowls.

 

Our final morning in the Twin Cities area was with Gail’s nephew and spouse, Bill and Cherie Cameron.  Unfortunately we didn’t get to see all the relatives in the area, eg Avis’ daughter Sharla and family, my brother David’s daughter Stacey and family, and Gail’s nephew Gerry.  I guess this is an opening for another trip.

 

Thursday we headed toward the South Dakota border stopping in Campbell to visiting college friends, Betty Jo and Al Kvidt.  She served as a bridesmaid at our wedding.  He with her support has always has had a strong interest in sports resulting in a collection of more than 400 signed baseballs and over 600 boggle-head statutes of pro athletes.  They have also visited every major league baseball stadium in the United States with a framed collage of all the games’ tickets to verify it.

 

From there we drove a couple hours north to Sebeka where plugged in the electric cord to the house of a niece and husband, Maureen and Jim Dragseth, a pair of lifelong teachers now retired.  Our visit was over breakfast.  They enjoyed traveling including camping around much of the USA and touring Alaska and parts of Central America.  The stories were invigorating and enticing.

Laura, Dick, Diane and David

 

After our trek across Canada we landed in Traverse City, Michigan, with Dick and Diane.  I wrote about them in the last blog.

We left Morrisons after a breakfast of aebleskiners - a new dish to us - made by Dick.  We arrived at a WalMart about an hour north of our designated meeting place with Laura.  We weren't certain what to expect with Laura as we have never met her before.  Our first shack was that the hotel where we would meet her for breakfast was in a pretty classy part of St Louis.  Second was that the hotel was one of the most beautiful we've ever been in.  Third was that Laura is beautiful intelligent well-liked member of the hotel staff.  We chatted for  a couple hours and shared information about our lives and the paths that crossed or almost crossed.  With a full belly and a warm heart, we exchanged hugs and slowly wandered up to our covered wagon.

After participating in the Marj Howard's Zoom Memorial Service we headed to visit Galletly - "David Galletly" as Bond would say.  We met at a Thai restaurant and joined by his son Aaron and his (Aaron's) girl friend Amanda.  Being that Aaron is a bartender with years of food service experience we entrusted him with the entrée selections which he did very well.  A couple hugs and good-byes with Aaron and Amanda and we were off following David to his abode at the end of a dead end street with a huge lawn and a railroad as the back boundary.  We added New York pages to his menu of a Country Western Omelette before some fond hugs and adieus.  We first met David when he came to Alaska with a mission team and stayed for the summer.  He later married our niece whom he met that summer, but alas, that didn't last.

The drive north to Millville, just north east of Rochester, Minnesota, was uneventful if you ignore the gusts of wind and the nap in the Love's parking lot.  We arrived to a warm welcome from Bill and Jill, Gail's niece, several hours of catching up on what's new and a delicious chicken meal.  After a couple rounds of playing with Charlie, a tour of the covered wagon, more chatting and starting the heater (it's forecasted to be 27˚tonight, we rolled out our bed rolls and settled in for the night.  Charlie had beat us to the draw as he had found a pillow on the floor in the house and claimed it as his own,  Now he's in the covered wagon exposed to the same elements of weather as we are.  Poor puppy.

Tomorrow we start the visiting in Minneapolis.

More Driving

We have become acutely aware that we have driven many a mile.  Last evening as we pulled up the driveway to Dick and Diane's we logged 10,000 miles on this driveabout.  That day we hustled from London, Canada to Traverse City, Michigan.  Last night we finalized details for meeting Laura Mathis in St Louis, 600 miles from Traverse City.  We did all but the last 60 miles which we will do in the morning.

One is wise to be concerned about driving around or near Chicago regarding heavy traffic and toll roads, and that includes Gary, Indiana.  Even with the automatic transformer that allows us to scoot through the toll booths, we think that we actually avoided all tolls.  If you travel in the east where toll highways are common, our advice is to get one of these transformers.  They reduce the stress to zero and the cost is typically half of what we would pay if we didn't have it.  There are no booths, or persons in the booths, or baskets to catch your quarters as you fly by.  It's either the transformer, which is an account you pay later, or they take a picture of your car's license and send you a bill for twice as much.  This is all new to us; we used to toss the quarters.

Dick and Diane were youth leaders in the church where we worshipped in Anchorage in the early 70's.  They were about our age, had adopted a biracial son like we had and then adopted an Alaskan native daughter as we had.  They returned to Michigan, the home of their roots, where both Dick and Diane served in the church, Dick as a pastor, an interim, an arbitrator (his doctorate thesis was in mediation) and finally as a district superintendent.  Upon retirement they built a log house on a pinnacle north of Traverse City overlooking a bay of Lake Michigan.  It reminded us of our efforts to build a home that fits our needs and decorate with personal touches.  Diane seemed to have taken a lead in the decorating and also worked on the construction.  It was cozy and so personal.

Our conversations included happenings in our lives over the past 40 years since we last saw them as well as many memories of our common experiences.  Dick just recently had a knee replacement and iis doing exercises to keep it supple and strong.  They had a dog who joined Charlie in running around the yard and also bumping Dick to the ground.  Dick was fine but I felt very bad for the incident.

Tomorrow morning we will have brunch with Laura Mathis, a half-sister of our adopted son Darron, whom we have never met.  We have talked on the phone from time to time.  We are very eager to meet her.  After that brunch we hope to find a good WiFi connection to participate in the memorial service for Marj Howard.  Then it's off to Kansas City to see a young friend who lived with us part of a summer many years back.  He's not so young anymore - like the rest of us.

Oh, by the way, the wind blew again today, about 40 MPH according to the Internet.  Driving was tough but walking to the restrooms at the rest stop was almost impossible against the wind.  The morning should be better.  This WalMart seems very safe and inviting.

Driving

 

One may wonder what gulls and driving have in common.  The answer is "wind."

The wind today wasn't the worst but during this day's journey across northwestern New York state and Canada west of the "Falls" I did had to hang onto the steering wheel quite firmly and my eyes on the road.  Often the van would zig and I would have to convince it to zag instead.

One might also ask what does one do while sitting in the covered wagon for hours on end.  While the routine may vary, some of the highlights remain constant.  Two tasks related to traveling are guiding the van down the road and determining which road to guide the van down.  I do the guiding and listening to Gail who determines the road.  We also listen to the young lady on the iPhone who can be very helpful but also at times very confusing.  We manage.

Another favorite activity is rehashing what just happened at the previous stopover.  This could get juicy but we tend to moderate the conversation to the many pleasntries we've just experienced.

We contact ahead to the next stop.  We watch for fueling stations and dump sites.  We stop for the dog.  We comment of the scenery, the history and the wind in the area.  In northern US and now Canada, the trees are bare and even berms of snow from the day before exist.  We discuss our menus, where we will sleep that night and sometimes we stop and take a nap.

Tonight we are in London, Canada, in our van in the driveway of our niece Toni who fed us a great chicken meal.  Her sister Heidi from Ohio decided to stay an extra day to visit with us and save us a stop around the other side of the lake in Ohio.  Her husband Robin has intrigued me with his stories of the history of the area and wars in general.

Tomorrow we will chat about this most recent visit and our hosts as we head to mid Michigan.

I'm not certain if the video will work.  So be it.

Maine

It’s not only tomorrow when we were in New York, it’s the day after tomorrow.  Between visiting and driving – and refueling and letting the dog out – I run out of time and mostly energy.

 

The drive to NewYork was adventurous and stimulating.  Cars were everywhere.  Google maps send us in circles but always with the correct results – evidently.  Roads, bridges, tunnels, lights, stop signs, pedestrians, skyscrapers, rivers, another bridge, several hundred more cars and no parking places.  Oops, I lied.  Dwight met us in the middle of the street lined on both sides with parked cars and enough driving room for one vehicle unless you pulled in your mirrors and said a prayer.  Gail jumped out.  I greeted Dwight.  Colleen appeared from the daylight basement rowhouse (Is that a good term?).  I pulled in the mirrors as Dwight and I watched a delivery truck finish his delivery and close his tailgate.  Moments later I slipped into his vacated spot and we paid the meter - $2 for one hour, $6 for two hours and two was the max. You do the math; it's crazy but logical - they want to discourage long time parking.  We’d come back in a couple hours and pay the meter again.

 

This visit was awesome.  I’ve always enjoyed Dwight and getting to know Colleen was wonderful.  We swapped stories about college – Dwight and I were in the same class, both math majors, Colleen was a year younger and Gail was three years younger.  So we had shared my senior in college but didn’t all interact back in those days.  We walked down the street for a omelet lunch and back to their house to compare some family history stories.  Dwight and I took a side trip to purchase some authentic New York bagels.

 

This is where the fun begins.  We pointed our covered wagon toward Boston with an ETA of about a bit after 6PM.  We spent many a mile going about 10-20 MPH along with several thousand of our closest chauffeur/soccer mother/commuter friends.  We rambled down David’s gravel road to his end-of-the-trail house as the clock approached 9PM.  We were so happy to make the arrival.

 

After the initial greetings and hearing the weather forecast for heavy wind and rain startng at midnight, Gail prepared the covered wagon and I chatted for a bit.  David is probably my best friend from grade school and high school.  He’s now a director of music at the United Church of Christ church in Boston, a great musician/composer and a gardener extraordinaire.  In the morning we walked through his exquisite yard which backed onto the Charles River.  While it’s not actually a greenhouse attached to the house, the one floor served that purpose well.

 

After a shared brunch we headed to the coast of Maine.  They say it’s beautiful and they – whoever they are – are right.  The wind and rain from the night before was still affecting the coast line and the waves were gorgeous with the waves and mist climbing high into the sunlight.  After having viewed the mandatory lighthouse for a Maine visitor, we had a Maine lobster and checked that off our bucket list.

 

Now we are now in the WalMart parking lot in Scarborough, Maine, recuperating from several wonderful days of visiting old friends .  We’ve reached our westernmost, southernmost and easternmost points on this journey.  Tomorrow we direct ourselves westward with a straight line like the teeth on saw.

Easter

Simon, Dan aka dad, Lucas, Jonah and Nicole aka mom

Most days of driving are central in the spectrum of good days and bad days.  Within the bad days – actually there are no bad days, only days that are not as good or are more challenging and exhausting – there are several reasons for this condition extremely diverse from one another.  For example there was that day we crossed Arkansas north to south along narrow winding country roads with hairpins posted speed limits of 10 MPH.  

 

Saturday was quite different as we crossed seven states and many major cities.  We started in Virginia, passed by or through DC – I know it’s not a state but we will count it as one, besides their license plates state “Taxation without representation” – passed by Balitmore in Maryland, slipped across Delaware into New Jersey and the infamous New Jersey Turnpike, nosed through the jungle leading up to and through New York City and state, and finally resting in Connecticut.  It was natural to think we’d be passing through Pennsylvania, but if you follow I95 or the NJ Turnpike, you’re just across the river.  So we missed Pennsylvania.

 

We arrived in New Haven, home of Dan and Nicole Allen, just as the three boys (Lucas, Jonah, and Simon, aged from 5 years to 20 months) were getting into their PJs, and Halloween costumes which served as robes and their bedtime story and prayer.  Nicole’s parents from Florence, Oregon were there also so we had a full house; we tried to minimize our impact as we try everywhere by slipping out into our covered wagon for the night.

 

Sunday morning, Easter morning, we tried our hand at French toast in the covered wagon before joining the family for tea and conversation.  Dan and Nicole attended the ecumenical Easter sunrise on a bridge while I just peeked through the blinds to watch the sun rise.  It was a nippy morning, around 47˚which is about how warm it got all day.

 

We drove to their church, First Presbyterian of New Haven, to watch the children hunt eggs, split a Dunkin’Donut and join in some fellowship.  Worship started at 10:45 with an oboist and organist offering a duet.  I suspect there were about 120-150 in attendance, all wearing masks including the choir even as they sang several songs.  The minister, a young lady, was energetic and energizing, offering many “Christ is Risen” greetings echoed by "He is indeed."  The highlight for many of us was singing Handel’s Messiah’s Hallelujah chorus in all its glory.  I don’t think I have even seen or heard a lay congregation sing that song and with such enthusiasm.

 

We shared a simple but delightful meal and some conversation with all including their friends Zach and Amanda and two children before heading out to find sister Betty’s former Connecticut home where Gail babysat in the early ‘60’s.

 

Upon our return in the evening we took Charlie into the back yard where he could play catch and offer the boys a delightful time of throwing the ball and frisbee.  Bedtime came soon and the boys hit the hay while we continued some additional enlightening conversation about what Dan and Nicole are doing.  Dan as a private practice is serving as a recreational therapist for about two dozen clients primarily in the autism spectrum.  Nicole works for Yale and is administering a grant to work with groups in Liberia to upgrade their training and teaching of medical personnel.  She has worked in Africa several times including her time in the Peace Corps when Dan was with her.

 

Tomorrow we’re back to New York City to visit Dwight and family, a classmate and friend from our college days.  Then it’s off to Boston to visit a great high school friend.  More on them later.

 

Addendum

There have been some whispers from little birds that there a developing competition to decide who is getting the best reviews in this blog.  Everyone, or at least almost everyone, thinks they are the best.  So to settle this once and for all, here is a list of the rankings of those in the competition.  

            #1 – “They”

 

Two hundred and Some Years Ago

It's been a good day and it's been Friday so I believe that it qualifies as Good Friday.

As I reported in the previous entry, we camped in a legitimate camping site last night, and I reported that it was raining as I wrote.  Today was clear and mildly warm; perfect as weather goes including no wind.

After the morning routine which included a shower, scrambled eggs and walking the dog, aka walking Charlie, after all he thinks he's more people than dog, we set our iPhone on the Colonial Williamsburg Visitor Center and aimed our covered wagon in that direction.  Like a deer in the headlights, even after reading all the literature on the place, we moved forward on faith.

There's really nothing at the Visitor Center other than a gift shop, restrooms, money takers and wise information booth volunteers.  Oh, and the start of a mile or more long hike to the attractions.  So we mounted the shuttle for the downtown colonial Williamsburg.  Our first stop after dismounting our trusty bus, was the millinary shop.  At that point we were the first and only visitors. (Our plan to beat the heat and the crowds was working.)  The seamstress, in her colonial role, was very informative and knowledgeable, as was the silversmith lady next door.

After a bit more wandering we noticed a crowd gathering by the Raleigh Tavern, so I purchased several cookies and we watched as colonists argued and discussed the events in Boston that year - seventeen and seventy-five (1775).  Some thought the British could do no wrong while the rebel rousing young feller felt the British were systematically slowly taking the freedoms from the colonists.  It all sounded too much like our current political discussions and the reports from Ukraine.

Now that it was near 11:30 and we'd been advised to watch out for the appearance of George and Martha Washington, we gathered appropriately with another gathering crowd.  George and Martha stepped out of history in the year 1769, if I recall it correctly.  They canme to say good-bye to their 650 closest friends gathered in the arena, but quickly slipped into a husband wife conversation about buying two new slaves.  She didn't think that they needed two but it finally came out that George didn't want the two teenaged brother slaves to be separated.  When asked after the scripted dialogue, what he thought about owning slaves he said that's the culture he grew up in but if you asked him 20 later he said he might have a different answer.  He said he was seeing human rights differently.  When asked if he thought about a political career, he said he's happy farmer.

Our old age caught up with us so we shuttled back to see Charlie and put our feet up before returning for an afternoon foray into blacksmithing, tin smithing, gardening, joinery and a bit of tailoring.  The most profound event of the afternoon was watching the horse draw carriages of tourists around the town.  They didn't need much guidance as they had done this probably hundreds of times.

Now we're up the road giving us a two-hour head start on our trek to Connecticut tomorrow.

Up the East Coast

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“It is a van or a camper?”

“Yes.”

So was a portion of a conversation Gail had with the occupants of the car beside us at the rest stop.

As I joined the conversation I added that since we’re from Oregon I call it a covered wagon.

They were having very bad moment.  We were on the boundary between North Carolina and Virginia.  They were from North Carolina headed to a wedding in Virginia and had just discovered that their AirBnB had just cancelled.  They were not very excited about the option of some $350 in the only hotel room they could find.  I’m afraid we left in our camper van aka covered wagon with no resolution to their issue.

This was another day of driving, and driving, and driving; or so it seems, from Charleston, South Carolina, through North Carolina and into Virginia.  During our breaks we studied the options for the drive and for our potential visit to the Colonial Williamsburg Village, a living historical outdoor museum.  We also chose a real RV camp site and paid a fee for a place to park and a lot of things we will not use like a swimming pool, bath house, beach park, and general store.  Our neighbors are close, like we each have about twice the width of the camper and just enough depth to nose in and not stick out into the street.  The neighbors on both sides have a dog or two which has been driving Charlie crazy.  Gail took a shower, a freight train came by missing us by some ten feet or so and now it’s raining so that the street is a flowing stream.  Oh, I feel so bad for the neighbor who is in a tent.

We purchased tickets online for the village admission which is where we will spend the portion of tomorrow that’s not raining.  The power's plugged in, the van vent automatically closed itself when the rain started and I can’t get the WiFi passcode to work.  Overall it’s been a great day.  We don’t have to worry about a tent in the rain or a cancellation of an AirBnB.  And the drive was smooth, comfortable and carefree. 

Atlanta and Charleston

Our stay in the parking lot of Target was shared with several Canada geese 

who seemed to have taken up residency.

Before we leave Florida too far behind, we must comment on their rest stops along the interstate  highways.  About five miles before the rest stop there's consistently a sign indicating how many truck parking places are available.  Near the rest stop there'd be a sign indicating where the next stop would be and typically that was about 30 miles.  At the rest stop there were security cameras adequately placed so that the overnight guard in the building can watch what's going.  We felt very safe in these areas especially when we parked amid semi-trucks and trailers that dwarfed us.

We left the bounds of Florida on Monday morning arriving in Smyrna on the northwest edge of Atlanta that evening.  Leslie and her partner LaRee greeted us at the door and we exchanged greetings and hugs before retiring to their back porch overlooking a great backyard for Charlie.  Going through the house we passed a large nook filled with young children's toys.  Leslie and LaRee babysit LaRee's two granddaughters during the day when her daughter Lachelle works as a nurse and her husband attends school to become a doctor.  Kyra went off to kindergarten the next morning and one and a half year old Georgie stayed home and intrigued Charlie.

Tuesday was a driving day to Charlotte, North Carolina, where Wednesday morning we had breakfast with Sally, a English teacher colleague we met while in China, and her four-year son Matthew.  The youngest stayed home and the older one was off to school.  We swapped stories of past memories and growing families over omelettes and waffles before heading south to Charleston, South Carolina.  Currently Sally heads up a team of advisors for Vanguard, a financial organization

We stopped to do some laundry at a local coin laundry (no, the covered wagon does not have a washer and dryer) and a bit of crocheting.  Every day requires some analysis as to where we are, what are our priorities for the next several days and making arrangements for those days.

About 4:30PM we arrived at our destination in Charleston where we met Bonnie, one of our bridesmaids and college friend.  She has moved into a 55+ apartment complex and was out walking her dog.  She continues to nurse in a consulting and educational way but has slowed down after her stroke several years back.  They treated us to a huge platter of various local meats at a local eatery.  They meaning Bonnie, her daughter Tracy and her husband Bill.

We took the evening to get a head start on our journey to Williamsburg, Virginia today.  Yes, it's another WalMart.

 

Florida - The Turn Around Point

"No picture today"

What a different a day makes.  We’re at a fueling stop near Loxley, Alabama.  We’ve never been to BucEes before.  As we moved into the lot, there were many many vehicles.  Then we noticed the fueling stations, aka gas pumps; two rows, two pumps per slot, two sides per pump; 120 places to park and fuel up.  All filled with vehicles.  And probably that many more parking spots.  I think each vehicle came with four or more occupants and they were all in the store.  What an opportunity for a super spreader.  I definitely had my mask on, and so did a few others.  A disturbed any hill doesn’t have the movement we saw in that store.

 

We spent most of the day driving through areas where we had helped with clean-up and reconstruction after Hurricane Katrina.  Pearlington was encouraging; cleaned up, new housing, growth; it looked good.  A new community center was built where we had camped during our stays.  Several specific houses we worked on looked good including the one where the old man asked for bright colors in his bedroom because everything had been so down and depressing.  We talked to a couple gents preparing for new concrete in front of the church where we had our meals, and the United Methodist Church which survived looked good.

 

In Gautier we stopped and saw the church where we started our Katrina adventure 17 years ago.  They have built a new sanctuary but only about 15 persons show on Sunday now.  When we attended those years ago there was standing room only in the old building.  After some aimless wandering searching our minds for clues to locations where we had worked, we headed back to Interstate 10 and turned our covered wagon east to Florida.

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We arrived in Leesburg, Florida, aka Fruitland Park, at the home of Brad and AnnMarie Chase in time for a chat and an awesome, my favorite, salmon and rice with cauliflower evening meal.  Brad is the twin of Cameron whom we saw in Phoenix and the son of Betty, Gail’s sister, whom we saw in Waco.  Their house is on a cove of Lake Griffin, which is interconnected with several other lakes making it possible for a multiple day boat trip.  We slept in their driveway that night and had a delightful breakfast on their deck by the pool.

 

The weather was awesome, no wind and the temperatures are a moderate seventy plus.  Alligators swam by but fortunately Chases have a secure well fenced back yard to keep Charlie out of the jaws of a gator.  They have a boat and dock which is free of fowl droppings because Brad has proudly installed a motion-activated water squirting system which discourages the perching of fowl.  Unfortunately some birds have figured out how to sit on the perch without getting squirted.  Fortunately all the birds we saw sat with their backs to the lake.  The walkway remained clear of droppings.

 

The visit with Brad and AnnMarie was awesome because although we have crossed paths at several reunions, these one-on-one interactions are so much more meaningful.  We also chatted with AnnMarie’s 91-year old mother who lives with them.  All good stuff.  -  Charlie did take a dip in their backyard pool but never did get Opie, their black lab, to warm up to him.

We’re pausing for lunch and to make an appointment to service the covered wagon as we move on.  We will have driven about 7,000 miles as of this evening. 

Local Cuisine

Crossing the Mississippi

Gail says I should have lots of fodder for today’s blog.  We stopped at a small family-run Catfish One roadside food stand.  Based on the number of customers for the size of the building, about the size of our covered wagon, aka RV camper van, we figured the food must be good.  Every nook and cranny on the street and in a small gravel pad had a vehicle.  I pulled up to the curb with our tail sticking into the entrance to the gravel pad but it seemed like the thing to do.  Later as I waited for the food I pulled it forward to align with the curb.

 

The menu was nicely painted on a four by eight plywood with the words catfish, shrimp and po-boy repeated several times.  I quickly decided to go with the “light box” of each a catfish and a shrimp.  The two customers in line ordered quickly as did I.  I used a credit card and she said they’d call the name on the card.  I moved out of the way of traffic and watched Charlie as he surveyed the area from the driver’s seat.  Unfortunately my camera was charging in the van so there’s no picture of Charlie driving.

 

Waiting for their food were about a dozen characters among the eleven persons standing around.  Most had a deep southern draw.  We’re in McComb, Mississippi, just north of the toe of the Louisiana shoe-shaped state.  Most were blacks with a couple white males and white lady.  The first gent who was not afraid of talking out, said he had already ordered; he was waiting.  He presented himself as playful and friendly.  Others seem to take that as too outgoing, but they accepted him.

 

A later arrival tall white elderly gent was bit bent over and displayed a shaking hand and insecure balance.  He carefully sat down and waited his order.  He appeared to know his way around so I suspect he was a regular.

 

A gent who backed his pickup against a curb some distance from the stand, arrived before me but studied the menu carefully so I got to order before him.  After he ordered he took his stand at the far end of the outdoor patio and started chatting.  Apparently he had an opinion about the vaccinations (I didn’t hear his take) but he had COVID twice and once he didn’t even know it.

 

A young mid-aged lady was notable as she was wearing a neck-to-toe brilliantly colored and patterned jumpsuit (I’m not a fashion guru so you might more correctly call it something else).  It fully covered her skin but did not conceal any of her shape.  Her slip-on rhinestone covered scandals glistened in the sun.  She must have ordered something that was already cooked because she was in and out in a flash.

 

The staff looked like this.  A older woman, but not near as old as I, with a bandana around her head took the orders.  Two men and a young (maybe 25-year old) woman filled the orders into styrofoam shells from bins of deep fried foods which were refilled with pizza pan platters of greasy food from the kitchen to our right.  Another young lady, maybe a late teenager, brought the bags of food to a second window and called out the names.  Sometimes it was hard to hear so the lady next to me repeated the call and declared, “I must be the outside one to repeat the names.”  Just another character in the crowd.  One of her children and family were Guatemala as missionaries and trying to establish residency.

 

I think about four persons were wearing masks, as was I.  Several of the customers were a bit on the chubby size, probably not from the catfish but more than likely from the way they were prepared – deep-fried in tasty fat.

 

I suspect my wait was about a half-hour during which time Gail affirmed our stops with relatives in Florida and Georgia in the next several days.  We’re in a WalMart parking along with several truckers and RV’s.  It’s been a cool windy, long day and it feels good to put the feet up with some tasty local cuisine.  We have had several cool windy days and are looking forward to a quiet warm relaxing day and evening.

Arkansas

Wednesday was a not-so-good horrible terrible bad day for an Arkansawyer or Arkansan hawk.  That’s not a species or variety of hawk, it’s just one who lives in Arkansas.  His/her/its day started great, he found a fresh but dead squirrel in the middle of the road.  However, as we approached him he grabbed the squirrel and flew to avoid a possible collision with us.  Just moments after he took off, the prey slipped from his talons and got wrapped around the middle wire of a barbed wire fence.  Too high to reach from the ground and guarded by the top wire for a fly-by grab.  Anywhere but the middle wire of a barbed wire fence!  “Woe is me,” shrieked the hawk nevermore to eat that delicacy.

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As we passed from Texas into Oklahoma several events occurred.  I (Denvy) have now set foot in all fifty states, Oklahoma being the last.   -   We were singing a line or two of songs from the area:  “Oh, come sit by my side if you love me, … But remember the Red River Valley, and the cowgirl who loved you so true,” and “Oooooooklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain.”  And have we seen sweeping winds, every day, every state.  Our goal this evening was to camp by Denby Point on Lake Ouachita in central Arkansas and enjoy the beauty of the state.  We only stepped out to plug in the electricity and turn on the propane and then only after we had donned several sweatshirts and covered our heads.  We are still enjoying the view from the shelter of our “covered wagon.”

 

As we passed from central to northern Texas we noticed a significant change in the landscape, most notable was the change from desert tans and browns polka-dotted with green shrubs and bushes to level lush green fields.  The greenery is in part due to the season, spring.  We also noticed what they called washes and draws earlier were now rivers and creeks and bayous with water in them.  We also noted that after coming out of the Red River valley, we crossed the Blue River, and then there was the Green River and finally the White River.  It was like a kindergartener coloring a map and naming the rivers.  Of course, there was also the Muddy Boggy River, or something like that, which had to be named by someone who actually saw the water.

 

One goal of the trip was to explore the back country of Arkansas and that we did.  The roads from today’s “Go” tile (think Monopoly) to tonight’s camp site was all back roads.  The painted middle line wiggled like a sidewinder sliding down the road.  At one point there was a rock near the shoulder so the edge white line swerved toward the middle of the road narrowing the pathway.  Some hairpins were marked 10mph while most often one could only get up to about 40mph before the next curve.  Fortunately there was minimal traffic.  I can’t blame them if they know the road.  The views were awesome but we were taken back by the numbers of abandoned and totally disintegrated buildings.  Several looked like the remnants of a passing tornado.  For several moments we also drove through some wildfire smoke.  Never did see the source of the smoke.

 

Google in all its glory indicated that today’s drive be just short of four hours.  We started at 9:00AM and arrived after 5:00PM; that’s eight hours.  Of course, there was a nap thrown in there and there was the matter of taking highway 28 instead of 27 at one intersection which added an extra hour of driving time but much more beautiful scenery, culture and more hairpins.

 

Tomorrow we head to Pearlington, Mississippi to see how things look 17 years after Katrina and Christ’s Church’s teams helping in the reconstruction.  A full day of driving.

 

The Road in "RoadTrip"

I hate to write about driving, roads, and bridges when our goal is people and special places, but you can't have a road trip without that trio.  And of course, vehicles; vehicles of all sorts, colors, sizes and purposes.  One of the more intriguing items traveling down the highways are the fins for the wind chargers.  They are huge!  

Usually we see them on the Interstate just going straight but today I saw three or four actually come from a side road and go up the ramp to the Interstate.  Not only did each one have a lead-car and a follow-car but there were about three persons with stop signs stopping and directing traffic as these monster long trucks turned up the ramps.  The frame between the front part of the rig and the back set of wheels was probably, at least twice the length of a normal semi-trailer, but the tip stuck out half again as far.  I'm impressed with the skill to move one of those fins.

I spent the morning at an RV service shop.  I had a list of about a half dozen items to consider but we focused primarily on the electricity.  The AC hasn't worked properly and the refrigerator doesn't hold a cool temperature.  I asked to sit in a corner of the covered wagon and stay out of the way, but the technician, a cool young man,Perry, would ask questions like "Where is the inverter switch?" and I was eager to learn so I became fully involved.  The fresh water tank leaked at the beginning of the trip and so that was on the list.  The black water tank after we drain it still registers 3 out of 4 dots full and there were some missing knobs.

We started with the electricity and we ended with the eletririty.  He disconnected, tested and reconnected all the batteries, even the one hidden under the driver's feet,.  They are all good.  I drew my own solution on the refrigerator: make certain the 120v switch is on because the 12v option just isn't hacking it.  The solution to the AC is "don't run it" unless we're connected to a land line.  The fresh water tank is a huge project and could take days so we set that aside.  The missing knobs weren't available and the solution to the black water tank was to not use the envelopes of cleanser (the bags don't fully dissolve and affect the sensors) but add ice which when driving will break up the poop and then melt to be pumped out.

So when it came to paying the bill after two hours, the report sounded like nothing was done and so the bill (I was shocked and pleased) was $22 and that included a better solvent for the black water tank.  So if you're ever in Waco, Texas with an RV with a problem that can't be solved, I strongly recommend Crestview RV.

After that intriguing morning, if nothing else I learned a lot about testing the batteries, I picked up Charlie and Gail and we made our final and third visit with Gail's sister.  It certainly was bitter sweet to have the opportunity to see her despite her inability to fully connect with us, and it might be the "final" visit.  She's 93.

Back on the road, it was God, Gail and I against thousands of vehicles and many more bumps in construction sites.  As we drove through Dallas with the thick cluster of skyscrapers in the downtown financial district, Charlie woke up, sat up and started barking at all the structures and traffic.  Charlie, I'm with you.

The storms you hear about on national weather news are one day in front of us.  We're safe but after last night's storms in northern Texas, it is now a sweltering 94˚.  So we're stopped in a WalMart near Denison, Texas (almost Oklahoma) to kick back and cool our heels.  We have two families in Arkansas on the agenda for tomorrow.

Oh, yes, the landscape north of Waco is beautiful farmland: green, lush and flat.

Betty

One primary goal in this trip is to visit with Betty, Gail's sister.  Since the last time we saw her she has moved from her home in Florida to a memory care community close to her daughter Nancy in Texas.  we have n=met that goal.  We spent a short hour with her Sunday afternoon and another this morning with a third visit planned for tomorrow.  Another big change since we last saw her is her memory; it very difficult for her to remember much or to formulate thoughts into sentences.  It was a delight to know that she remembered us.  Gail often says I was one of her favorites.  And she's one of mine.

It's hard to accept the idea that this vibrant healthy beautiful caring woman can't put together a full thought or remember her children.  During the first visit we sat outside and were graciously offered some very stale pretzels and water by the staff.  She noticed the flowers needed watering.  We love her dearly and struggled to just nod when we couldn't clearly understand her.

This morning Gail and I stopped by alone without Betty's daughter.  We were told she was playing dominoes which meant that a set of tiles were lying on the table before three residents.  It appeared that the best they could do was put the tiles back in the box.  We chatted for awhile and excused ourselves as the noon meal was about to be served.  We'll return for one more visit tomorrow.

Terry, Nancy and we went out to a Texas BBQ brisket this evening.  We were forewarned that there were both excellent and not so good reviews.  As we entered the restaurant we were greeted with a young lady on a mic, "Table for three?"  They were having karaoke night.  It was very loud inside and the selected song was not of our era so we asked for a table outside but the settings outside were all tall with stools with hard small seats.  The food was so-so and we left for softer seats in the car.

Now there are 4 seconds remaining in the final March Madness game with leading team leading by 3 points but the other team has the ball.  It's over.   Kansas won!  Thanks for the big screen and great company.

 

Charlie's Blog

 Blogger's note:  Like Bil Keane who allowed his children to draw his Family Circle cartoon, we are allowing Charlie to write today's blog.

These past several days are by far the best ever so far.  Kathleen had a little door so I could go in and out without asking my family to open the door.  The backyard was big and very safe where I could convince my family to throw the frisbees or balls.  There were also neighbor dogs who yipped every time I went outside.  It was so much fun to tease them.  

The next day and night weren't all that great, but the one after that, wow, it was super.  There was a fenced farm yard with two friendly spirited dogs.  The sheep, chickens and turkey were on the other side of another farm fence, but that's okay because we could see each other and run side by side.  However, they were party-poopers and didn't run; they just watched me and my new friends run back and forth almost like a tennis match spectator.

There also were new people whom I taught to throw the frisbee and they did well.  And, and, and, this is the best part, they had a tub full of water that I could cool off in.  It was awesome.  My family weren't too excited when I took a last dip just before going in the covered wagon for the night.

Tonight I'm in the house, not the covered wagon, after a day of romping with another new dog is a huge unfenced ranch where there were lots of black cows.  The bummer was that my family wouldn't let me play with the cows.  All these new dogs liked to run and nip at each other - I love that - but they wouldn't catch the frisbee or ball.  I guess they're not the athletic type.

/s/ Charlie

San Antonio - More or Less

Oops, this morning's blog vaporized into space, cyberspace I suspect.  So start again and add a bit more.

We just spent several hours over brunch at Mi Familia in a mall on the western edge of San Antonio.  Hosted by Gail's brother, Stuart, the sibling closest to Gail in age but still her senior by 5 years, and his son Tommy, the group included the wives of each Stuart and Tom and Tom's two high school daughters.  It was great fun testing each other's memories about events in Gail and Stuart's childhood, about what was happening in their lives and to learn more about the teenagers - one is graduating and headed to A&M with no specific career in mind and the other talked about being the only girl to play the tuba in her school.

The day before was dedicated to driving from El Paso after a grand visit with Gail's sister's daughter - a niece for short.  The road was good, the covered wagon was great, however the wind was atrocious causing me to glue myself to the steering wheel and jerk back to the straight and narrow after each gust of wind.  Niece Kathleen took us to missions along the Rio Grande and then to an afternoon Mexican meal.  The food was unique and exciting but the front door and parking were hard to find.  Eventually we accomplished finding both.

At one stop a group a ladies who were colleagues of Kathleen came over and introduced themselves.  Kathleen is a lawyer and is currently serving as a family court judge.  We had very lively and interesting conversation about justice and fairness in family disputes.  A part of our drive again included a view of the border fence.

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David was working on his RV trailer as we pulled into Lane and David's yard.  Not a gated community but a fenced yard with sheep, chickens, a couple dogs and a tom turkey.  Cheeses, sausages, and crackers with great lemonade was served and the stories, and questions, started about family (Lane is Gail's niece) and Alaska (they planning a 3-month trip to the 49th state this summer).  Soon Lane's brother, wife and two of the three brothers came by and the stories expanded to include their lives.  Mattie, Karl's wife (I'll let you guess who's related to whom), is a quiet beautiful Philippino.  The variety of occupations continues:  Karl is an ex-militrary, David is a handyman and Lane is a nurse.

As things were winding down, David showed me his latest project.  He has a computer-driven rotator machine with which he is carving serving/cutting board with inlayed shells and arrowheads.  As a lifetime woodworker this was priceless.  No, no such tool lies in my future, but I can still admire and appreciate this new technology.  Gone are the days of axes and chisels.