 |
| Nothing like a clean truck. |
Due to the excitement of the Zag's win last night, I stayed up way past my bed time, which made for a slow morning. It may also account for my sluggish play at the cribbage table. Stumpy thumped me (Again). I'm down 0-2 in the battle for all of the Astros in Houston. After the game, a little Spanish study, a pretty good session in the form, a nice soak in the hot tub, and a lap around the park, we decided we better get busy with our chores. We can only lounge around like a couple of Texas lizards for so long. We had three main goals for the day: wash Fric (It was covered with yellow pollen mud left over from the piney woods), replenish the stores (Veggies, milk, and such), and find the First Presbyterian church that our old pastor, David Peterson, just retired from. We eased out and just figured we'd find a car wash (We did). This is one of my favorite things about traveling. I love to turn Susie GPS off and just wander around. We gave Fric a good scrubbing inside and out. It always feels good to be driving a shiny truck (Especially in Texas). Then we got nervous, so we asked Susie GPS to take us to the church. She did, but as usual, she pointed us to a freeway ramp, which we didn't want. But it was too late. Soon we were bumper to bumper on a Saturday morning with about a thousand of our newest friends (And some not so friendly--not all Texans let you change lanes freely). On the way to Memorial Drive Presbyterian we passed through some neighborhoods where the houses were simply grand. Most of the homes we saw had so much square footage that they could fit five or six of our house in their foot print. We had to ignore Susie for a while and drive around the seriously rich mitch neighborhood. We would have parked and walked around, but we were in our truck washing clothes. The only people visible were the Mexican gardeners and a few skinny women in lycra running under the magnolias. So we didn't walk. The church is really a campus, which reminded me of the mega church we attended in Amarillo last year. Three or four Spokane First Presbyterians could fit in it footprint. Things ARE bigger in Texas. By then it was lunch time, so we trusted Judy's phone to find us a little old fashioned burger joint where we shared the special of the day: Turkey burger with fries and a drink. It was excellent. Properly nourished, we decided in earnest to find the RV park without the aide of the GPS and without going on the freeway. It's really fun to nose our way around, trusting our homing instincts, and we were successful. We spent the afternoon watching March Madness, including the very sad spectacle of the Gonzaga women blowing a big lead to Tennessee. It's one thing to lose, but it's another to lose while playing scared. Those in that locker room will be haunted by that game for the rest of their lives. But as Joe Bonino used to say, "These are not my concerns." So, armed with our bearings, we'll go to church tomorrow (I'll dress in my Sunday best), enjoy our traditional breakfast, and then go to the stadium to cheer wildly for the Zags. Few things could be better for a hoop junkie like myself (And Stumpy). So, as you see, life is good, especially today.
Stumpy says, "I'll take the special, please."
Excellent.
I liked Cliff's because it's a small business owner working hard, doing things right.
Not to be out done, we had BBQ chicken sandwich from Stumpy's kitchen for dinner. Yum.
No comments:
Post a Comment