Tim’s got conferences.
Lola and I are along for the ride, in our longest RV adventure yet, covering 13 states in just over two weeks!
Departure preps: the house is clean, the yard is trimmed, the kitchen’s stocked with teenboy food, and Dane has his instructions. Again. Because teenboy.
Dinner stop: Jennings, LA. We did not look in the right place, and there were no good offerings, but the frog legs were next to the corn balls, and that made me cackle right there over the sneeze guard.
Well. Sleeping in the Walmart parking lot just got hella classy! Port Allen, LA
Good morning, Atlanta. I salute your cool breeze with my bare feet in the RV window.
Yeah, we’re still working on organizing the office.
Waterfront property here at Atlanta South today! Who says RV parks aren’t classy?
All the southern things! It’s Sunday, y’all. This is how we worship. Gritz Family Restaurant in McDonough, GA
Made it to PA! We had reservations at a state park. The reservation center assured us we would fit. We did not. Rolling onward, we found this place — no hiking trails, no lake, but plenty of character and lots of new farm friends for Lola. I think we’ll like it here at Gram & Pap’s.
It was an “everything that could possibly go wrong, did” kind of day. But the place where we are finally set up — after two hours that made it seem as if we’d never even seen our own truck or RV before — is lovely. See? Self-serve produce, horsies on site, and pretty clouds over the farm house. I shall explore and get back to you.
What else could we possibly need (other than an actual sighting of the actual cow)?
I’m lying outside Enjoying a cool summer breeze In soft, clover-filled grass Not sweating Nor being eaten by fire ants In the middle of the afternoon In July. That’s a whole lotta “Can’t do this in San Antonio” right there. Aaaaaaaahhhhhh.
Forced fun and socializing at Tussey Mountain, for the Mac Admins Conference. Tim got a hole in one! I drank and drove.
I’m waiting for dessert (ice cream!) at the banquet at the Mac Admins Conference, where tables are organized by discussion topic. Tim and seven attendees surround me at this one. I can’t follow the conversation about mobile syncing, terabytes, external accounts, hosts and clients, so I’ve been counting instead. Much to my surprise, wedding bands outnumber Apple Watches, 5-2. One guy is wearing both.
Guess what I’m doing today — the first with no rain in the forecast since we left Texas on 6/30. Sigh.
This is not a clothesline. Clotheslines make RV parks look tacky. This is a Canine Tie-Out Drying Apparatus with Optional Handlebar Lingerie Hanging Accessory. I win.
Onward to WV, for a Very Important Opportunity Every year in July, my mom and a few friends from our Frostburg days gather at a river cabin in WV for a weekend of their own. The rules: no husbands, no kids, no counting calories, and what happens at the river stays at the river. I was 14 in 1983, the first summer they went, and jealous beyond words to have been left behind. Surely I was mature enough to hang with the grownups? I was smart. I knew things. But no. Much pouting ensued — at least until I became a mom myself, and then I finally got it. Still wanted to join the fun mind you, but I got it. And coincidentally, that year I became a mom — 1995 — was the year my FriendFest group started meeting, inspired by these River Women, and we are all still at it! This year, their 33rd, the River Women broke the rules — but only for the final hour of their stay dontcha know — to welcome two daughters (also friends since 1983), two granddaughters, a son-in-law, and a dog. We got lunch. And hugs. And this. Historic. Photo. Aviva, Shosi, Jennifer and me in the front; Lee, Sky, Mona and Elizabeth in the back. River Women Maureen and Nancy had already headed home, and all of us miss Linda, River Woman who floats on in our memories.
Hello, Tennessee. State #12.
Why thank you, Tennessee. I can’t compete with your home girl, Dolly Parton, but I will take. that.
Tennessee: I love how you name your roads. Never change.
We are here at Natchez Trace SP for two nights, taking tomorrow off the highways and onto the trails for the Birthday Boy’s 49th!
Today’s adventure: the Cub Creek Trail. Since Tim is the birthday boy, I took first position, thus making me the Spider Web Buster. It was without a doubt the most unpleasant gift I have ever bestowed — and I once gave the boys a book called “Owl Puke,” which came with an actual owl pellet for dissecting. Anyway, Tim tried to placate me with the reminder, “You know, it’s my understanding that the spiders were here first.” True. But really not helpful. And since those fuckers were strung up every 8 feet along the entire 4.2 mile trail, I finished it looking and feeling like I’d been trussed up for a spider’s gourmet lunch. Cue the “helllllp meeeeee” scene from the end of “The Fly.” Also? Ew. Selfie taken after the hike around the lake, and before the hike into the lake.
OK, so the brownies stuck to the pan, but I found a birthday candle in here, dammit. I win.
Rest stop picnic in Arkansas, state #13. And look at me all capable of parallel parking now. I had to go in reverse to do this! Baby got back.