We covered 750 miles in two days, 500 or so on one day and 250 the next, and I hope we don't have to do another 500 day. It's too hard, physically and emotionally. At 50 mph with stops, the day is just too long, and we pull into town too late and too tired. That is my thought, anyway.
We blew through four states (I might have written this, I think I did.) Louisiana, Mississippi (I remember I wrote this because of all those s's and i's) Georgia, South Carolina and into North Carolina. That's five states. Five. I teach math, I know that.
There has not been opportunity for drumming or writing so I have taken up Olympic Sweating. I've already advanced through several levels. Seriously. It is so damn sticky here, you don't need buttons or zippers, you just stick your clothes on like Colorforms.
So - here is Charlotte, where we failed to connect with cousins on the first night and ended up in Zeb and Jed's Trailer Park again, late at night. No bathrooms. You will have to explain to ME why the Starbuck's cup you DRANK the fluid out of won't hold -- oh, never mind. You get the picture.
I believe there is a Zeb and Jed's in every town, waiting for us. I will NEVER be a snob about KOA's again. I'm repentant. And sweaty.
Today was Music Day - we did connect with cousins this morning, and went to the Charlotte Folk Society picnic and Ice Cream Social (bathrooms!) M immediately fell into the Slow Jam tent and was absorbed, and I wandered, and sang for a while in the Song Circle, and took a clogging lesson from one of my cousins, and ate ice cream, and visited, and generally enjoyed myself. We then headed over to a benefit for a local cancer-stricken woman, and listened to a great blues band, and wound up the day at an Irish pub listening to my cousin & friends play Celtic music. Celtic Djembe, no kidding!
It was a joy to reconnect with my cousin, and my cousin's ex-wife, who is NOT my ex-cousin-in-law but IMHO still my cousin or whatever, and we will NOT have any jokes about family relationships around these parts, thank you.
But I should back up, anyway, and tell about the night before in Atlanta where we could not even FIND the Zeb and Jed's, and we were in crotchety late night despair at the Waffle House (where they all know a thing or two about despair) when the waitress (whose name was Pam, making her automatically all right in MY book) said, awww, y'all kin stay rat here in our back lot, we got plenty of room and thar're shars at the truck stop. So we slept at the Waffle House, and I did not point out to an exhausted M that the OTHER side of our camp spot was a graveyard. I rather like them, but they sorta skeeve him. In the morning I watched some bunnies play tag around the headstones, and then he finally got up and we went over and took our shars.
There's no punch line there, only the rather weird fact that churches here have graveyards, little ones, instead of the large amalgamated cemeteries we have at home; and folks are often buried at the specific church they attend. Sometimes, I am told, the churches are torn down and the land sold, only not the dead people's land, so then you have a little graveyard in between, say, the Waffle House and a truck stop. If you come from here you will have no idea what I am babbling on about, but if you're californian you will agree that THAT IS WEIRD.
So. Where were we? Oh yes. In Atlanta at the Waffle House. We then got to visit with a friend I know from my mad Guinea Pig connections, who welcomed us into her completely cool arty log house and gave us lunch, and the inside of her home sorta made up for not getting to tour the Phoenix Connection homes. Thanks, B!
Now I've completely scrambled the story, because we are in Charlotte now and will probably spend a down-day here tomorrow, maybe doing some laundry, getting some new tires, fixing a headlight, and so on. The route home is sort of up for discussion, I guess.
Anyhow, we are parked at my cousin's ladyfriend's lake home, and I am listening to an incredible Cicada Symphony, and looking forward to getting up tomorrow for a shar. Shars is mighty fine. For five minutes, until you stick your clothes back on and go out to practice your Olympic Sweating.
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| The skies when they threaten and suddenly dump buckets.... |
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| And just as suddenly it's over and the street is steaming in the heat. |
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| Road Warrior. |
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| Lots of little houses like this. |
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| I totally would have eaten here, just because. |
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| This is a semi trailer at the truck stop. |
(The small sign in the window says, "No Service
Today - No AC." I would add, "Jesus Christ, it's hot.")
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| Clogging lesson! |
