Planning Mice

I've always wondered about the best laid plans of mice...
Our plan yesterday was to go with a group of riders to Wheeler Dam on the Tennessee River just at the Alabama boarder. Not too far. We left our house at 5:00am to meet the group which planned to be back in Centerville around 12:00 - 1:00. It takes 15 minutes to get to Centerville. We didn't meet the last person till 6:30. Still, it was just beginning to get light and it was still cool - not bad.
An hour down the road someone decided to stop at Shoney's for breakfast. Nice. Wrong jeans at this point - tight waist band - but still happy.
Wheeler Dam was eventually reached. It is not remote, but it is still isolated and in the country. The cottages built for the dam builders who were there on a more permanent basis are still there - including numbers 2 and 13 where my parents lived with Martha and Burkett in the early 40's. This is where Burkett says the primodial soup of the river entered his psyche at birth. It is still very beautiful.
Just down river is Muscle Shoals/Florence and home of Wilson Dam. My dad also worked there in the 40's. It is now in the middle of town - and what a town. Name a restaurant chain - it is there. From Krispy Kreme to Red Lobster - they had it on this one stretch of road. It was beginning to get warm. It is 11:30 by now - no way to get home by 1:00 since we're 120 miles from Centerville.
We stop once again about half way home for lunch. Finally we are getting into Centerville and the NEW story starts around 3:30. We'd been riding about 60 miles or so and the seat is getting really hot - I'm into some serious fanny fatigue and Scott decides to take the scenic route home! About 10 miles into the last 30 home I poke him and tell him to pick the next wide spot in the road - I've got to get off. Luckily, within a mile or so, we come upon the wildlife ranger's house and stop there. They aren't home. OK, we'll sit on the porch. In just a few minutes, I'm ready to ride again, we get all soaked up to go and gear back on and the bike won't start. I push Scott 5-6 times from the crown of the road into their 30' driveway - not nearly long enough to start it, before we give up and see if we can call someone to come out here in the absolute wilds of Hickman county to jump the bike. After umpty jillion phone calls - why do they have service out here and I don't at my house? - help arrives and we visit with them for nearly an hour while their truck is running and charging the battery. Great visit with friends we spend too little time with. Finally, 13 1/2 hours later, the planned six hour ride is complete and we are home. And I wonder why I never have any time to clean up around here...

OH! IMPORTANT!

New discovery thanks to Aaron. Clarksville has a little diner called Johnny's. Normally I'd have never stopped. But after hearing they had FRIED HONEY BUNS, what could I do. OH MY GOODNESS! They offered it with ice cream on top. Are you kidding me? What would possess you to deface a honey bun that way. Especially one anointed with butter and fried until crispy and gooey on a hot grill. Nirvana. Or at least country gourmet.

In the last eleven days...

One's life can certainly turn on a dime. Scott found out within that 11 days that the insurance due to stop covering Aaron at the end of September because of his 24th birthday could continue if he were back in school. Most of you who read this know of Aaron's struggles with depression for the last 2 years. Depression and school do not mix well. APSU and Aaron didn't mix well either. Harding doesn't like it when you try to come back without mentioning intervening school time. Academic review boards at state schools can be far more forgiving than you might expect. Sometimes Christian institutions can be much less forgiving than you might expect. Most of the time, it pays to keep on plugging. We'll see what the final outcome is, but Aaron as of 7:46pm, Thursday, August 23, is at Harding, in an apartment, reinstated as a student, but with no classes. We await the registrar's decree.

Lyn's friend, Nash, went to the doctor today to see if he may have skin cancer. He is a young man, Lyn to Aaron's age. Please pray for him, if you will.

Lyn is currently sitting between two Jareds in chapel, keeping company with Nash, and being pursued by Michael. She has a new job at a clothing boutique in Bald Knob. I think she also has some art classes.

I have a new friend. Kathy Cobb, who lives just up the road a bit, close for around here - just 5 miles - has hired me to teach her to knit. We got along so well and have so many things in common, I'm not sure the lessons will last long but it looks as if we have each found a fast friend already. I was open to a new one at last. It is very hard to admit this, but I don't easily let people in or make new friends easily. I make really good acquaintances fairly quickly - but few with whom I'll share as much as I share with you in this extraordinarily public forum. Not that I think more than the five of you who aren't my children are distributing my blogsite to the masses, it is just easily stumbled upon by strangers. Odd that I could have a lurker knowing more about my life than most of my relatives! (If you are a lurker, you are still welcome - I just wish you'd reciprocate with the sharing!)

I just finished an Oprah's book club selection. The Reader, by Bernhard Schlink was compelling, but I did not enjoy it. (Odd, I've never enjoyed an Oprah selection I've read.) It reminded me of the Stones by the River (I think that was it) about the dwarf girl who lived at the time of the holocaust. The Reader was set in the years after, but they paralleled in lots of ways. I did not like either book, but couldn't stand not to finish them. I kept hoping for more, for a resolution. Didn't get one. Neither of the protagonists could work the antagonist out of their psyches. I find that in some people - I tend to think of them as intrapersonally retarded. They don't know themselves even well enough to decide to have a goal. Very sad.

I've come to a point in my life that I can't wear sleeveless shirts. Just knit a really cute one and can't wear it. I feel naked. It will have to have sleeves. But it is a beautiful shell just because of the colors. Think late fall leaves after the yellows have turned brown and dark gold. Don't forget the reds. THAT's what color it is. Ribbon thread. Can't wait to wear it. Once it has sleeves to cover at least the top of the wings.

It was 100 degrees still when I was coming home from work at 4:00. It has been two weeks of this with no end in sight according to Leland on channel 5 tonight. I'm just glad it isn't comparably cold.
And people said the Internet would destroy letter writing...

Motorcyclists for the Messiah

OK, the name is really corny, but I didn't help come up with it! Tomorrow is motorcycle Sunday at our church, everybody with a bike is supposed to ride to church, eat afterwards, and then ride. Scott originally wasn't going to participate, because he didn't want to take part in something that was going to cause bad blood. We've got him ready to go, though. I'm ready. I decided I can't wear my "Harley Riders: The Kind of People Your Mother Warned You About" t-shirt. It has a really big hole at the belly button. I may wear my cousin's bike shop shirt, despite it being named Iron Horse, which I'm sure was named for the trashy magazine instead of the "iron" horse connotation. No matter what shirt I wear, I'll have my blue jean jacket on in the 100 degree heat. I'll soak it in water right before we eat and let it drip a while. Then, while it is still wet, but no longer dripping, I'll put it on and ride in air-conditioned comfort while all the newbie rough riders are miserable and sunburned in their sleeveless shirts. Maybe I'll "convert" someone at church tomorrow! I know we'll have several there who don't go to any church. Hopefully, they'll see we have fun even while trying to live as Christians. I'll say this for our current preacher; we weren't thrilled about his oratorical skills at first, but he'll say what others shy away from. Last week, his sermon included big rocks he handed out to the congregation as he was speaking. His point was, let's not throw stones at our visitors next week. Not bad.

Is it hot in this handbag, or is it just me?

Yes, folks, the dew point is in the upper 70's, the shade temp is 98, and Lyn and I have run the kiln the last two nights. I don't think Nashville has broken 100 degrees yet, but it is in the forecast. Tennessee isn't supposed to do triple digits, even in Memphis where hot was invented!
Everybody have a nice iced tea and fan a minute.

Great Things about Living in the South

Being a southern girl, I have iced tea spoons in my silverware drawer. Some of them are even actually at least silver plate instead of stainless. This is important because the one quart Starbucks Coffee Almond Fudge is a little too deep for a regular spoon and ice cream tastes better off of silver than stainless or plastic.

I really didn't NEED the ice cream after today's first day at school experience, but since I wore new shoes (stupid) it did help. And, I only finished the bottom of the quart. I didn't eat it all tonight. I promise...

Aaron is at a ZZTop concert tonight. And Stray Cats. Scott and I are jealous. I am a fan of both and can sing real lyrics instead of the ones I make up in my head to most songs. My family occasionally has to tell me I probably don't need to sing along with a song since I don't REALLY know the lyrics and nice girls wouldn't admit liking "that" song. Well, OK, but Velcro Fly is just really a cool song. Who knew it was about pants?