GRANNY SMITH

Sunday, September 26

Chance and Rusty, having never spent the night in a coach, wanted to sleep in the Marlin. Last night they had brought their sleeping bags in and camped out on the coach. This morning they were up at seven and headed into the house.

Onie was up at eight thirty to get her first cup of coffee of the day. The writer had a cup of Chai tea at nine.

A glance at the thermometer told us it was sixty eight outside and looking at the sky we saw it was overcast.

We had promised the boys pancakes, bacon and sausage for breakfast along with hot chocolate. We were celebrating Rusty's 9^th birthday. Now we delivered on the promise, getting Kyle out of bed at a very early hour. After the boys were fed Onie and the writer ate at twenty minutes to ten. Then it was time for Onie to makes biscuits for Gary and Kristin.

Gary and Kristin finished their breakfast at eleven. Kristin had enjoyed the maple syrup and Gary hadn't forgotten his Aunt Pattie's figs. He had several helpings .

Kristin helped Onie with the dishes after the last bite was downed.

With a clean kitchen Onie started work on the last of the tomatoes.

The writer went out to work on the charge air. Hot water and Purple Power proved too much for the caked burned on dirt and eventually it gave up and a good air flow was once again flowing over the charge air fins.

Then it was back to the laptop to make notes and write.

Kristin came back out at two for tea with Onie.

After tea the three of us went in to watch the Titans/New York Giants football game. Gary and Kristin are Titan fans and were happy when the Titans won.

Rusty had a school project which called for him to collect and identify leaves from twenty different trees. He and Kristin, along with Gary, had looked around the house but could only come up with a few. Gary had the idea to go to Home Depot to their garden center for more leaves. In the truck Gary drove us there. Waling through the garden center we were able to find enough trees to complete the project.

Rusty's birthday is coming this week. He will be nine. Since it can't be celebrated then he had gotten his cards and gifts today. Among the gifts was some money. Now, looking at the trees, he decided he wanted to buy a tree to plant at home. After some looking, thinking and talking about which tree to buy he decided on a Granny Smith apple tree. He selected one, paid for it and helped Gary put it in the bed of the truck.

Rusty with his apple tree.

Time for the birthday dinner had arrived and it was off to a Mexican restaurant where everyone ate to their heart's content.

 Birthday boy Rusty, Kyle, Chance, Kristen, Gary and Tom.

Onie was there, too.

After supper was finished a special birthday dessert was brought out for Rusty.

Birthday song and a little whipped cream.

Yum. Yum.

Kyle gets a taste.

The party's over!

Back home at six thirty a little more time was spent on the charge air while Onie and the family visited.

Finished with the charge air and cleaned up the writer joined the family inside where we watched the movie, Shutter Island. The movie presents an enigma for the viewer leaving each to ponder the real events of the movie.

Back in the coach at ten we went to bed.

Tomorrow would be another travel day.

HEADING HOME, ALMOST

Monday, September 27

It cooled off somewhat during the night and by five the temp was down to sixty six, good sleeping weather. That good sleeping weather was only enhanced when rain began falling at seven.

We stayed tucked in until eight thirty. The rain still fell and it had dropped the temp to sixty four.

Eggs, from Ted's chickens, along with our sausage and biscuits from Onie's hands and oven covered our breakfast plates. Maple butter from Yvonne topped our hot biscuits.  The repast was washed down with the obligatory coffee and tea.

After breakfast the writer showered, made a few notes and went out to disconnect the land lines and get the coach ready for the road. It was wet but the rain had stopped while we ate.

Onie showered and cleaned up inside, readying the interior for movement.

Easing out of the driveway at eleven thirty and pulling away from the house we drove on a wet road as no wind had risen to dry it.

The temp was back up to sixty six under cloudy skies.

We headed south and a bit east to pick up a good road into Alabama at noon. A light mist accompanied us. We were on the freeway headed into Huntsville and got there at twenty after twelve.

Just after passing the Marshall Space Flight Center we turned onto the Admiral Alan B. Shepherd, Jr. Freeway, aka Five Sixty Five and headed toward Interstate Sixty Five.

Home was seeming a whole lot closer now. We were only about seven hundred fifty miles away. When one has been gone all summer and most of that was over forty five hundred miles distant the idea of seven hundred fifty miles seems like a hop, skip and a jump. It is one of those comparative things. When one is at the grocery store, three miles away, seven hundred fifty miles seems long, but when one is forty five hundred miles from home seven hundred fifty seems close and so today we felt close to home, indeed.

In just a few more days we will really be home, not cured of our LOTOR but ready to stay put for a while.

The Admiral Alan B. Shepherd, Jr Freeway connected to Interstate Sixty Five, South at ten minutes to one. Interstate Sixty Five is also known as the Ronald Reagan Highway. The writer likes the way Alabama honors our national heroes who have contributed so much.

The Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge is at the Tennessee River which is another huge river which, when the country was young was used to open the west, as were the other large rivers we have crossed.

In Birmingham at two ten we sailed right through without a hitch as traffic was moderate and there was no real construction delays.

Sizable thunderheads were building to the south of us but we were not headed there so they were of no concern to us. We were headed west but thunderheads were also building there. We would have to wait to see what the afternoon hours bring.

We stopped for fuel at the Flying J in McCullough, Alabama at two thirty. Our last tank had yielded eleven miles to the gallon. Flying J and its seventy three degree temp was left behind at two thirty.

A short distance down the road the Marlin stopped for a change of drivers. The navigator took over as the driver and the driver took over as the seat warmer, on the right side. Unencumbered by the task of driving he got some music started on the CD player.

Two hours and one hundred twelve miles later he had to abandon the CD player for driving duties once more.

Now, at five thirty, in Mississippi and with the sun low in the western sky shinning directly into the coach and warming us past our comfort level, the dash air was turned on.

Once again we were experiencing a beautiful drive across Interstate Twenty. There were two or three areas of construction but the road was only closed down to one lane and the speed reduced to sixty, not a problem for us. W e have made this drive many times and it is always a nice ride with beautiful scenery. The spring flowers were gone but there were a few colored leaves of fall.

The Allison was placed in park in the Wal-Mart parking lot in Pearl, Mississippi at six forty five. Eighteen wheelers were already there for the night and just after we parked two more pulled in around us, blocking us in. We couldn't see if other rigs had pulled in.

It was sixty eight degrees and it seemed dry.

It would be nice sleeping.

Before going in to Wal-Mart to do a little shopping we enjoyed some guacamole for happy hour.

On our way back from shopping we noticed a few other rigs had pulled in for the night.

After supper we went to bed at nine.

MISERABLE

Tuesday, September 28

Unable to sleep any longer we rose at a quarter of eight.

Outside it was sixty one but it had been fifty nine earlier.

We remembered today is Clair's birthday. She was the first daughter born and knowing her sensitivity about birthdays we will let it rest at that. We called to sing to her and wish her many happy returns of the day. She reminded us that she had adopted her sons who are now nineteen and twenty four. They were both teenagers when she found them, her story, so that means she could still be in her thirties and if you buy that I'll sell you the Brooklyn Bridge.

We had a breakfast of cold cereal, coffee and tea.

Most of the rigs on the lot earlier were gone.

Under very bright sunshine we were on the road again at nine thirty. The dash air was running to keep us cool in the already seventy eight degrees.

The driver texted Mike Richardson in Denton to tell him our estimated time of arrival was two. He replied his was the same. Kay replied she and Jay should be there about the same time.

It was nice on the freeway again today. There were a few bumpy places in western Mississippi but overall the road was good and road crews were out working to correct the bumps.

We crossed the mighty Mississippi at ten forty and from the looks of all the exposed sand banks on the west side of the river it must be way down.

When we crossed the Mississippi River west bound we were in Louisiana where all the rest areas on Twenty seem to be closed for reconstruction. One wonders if the funds came from Mary Landrieu's payoff from Obama for her vote on healthcare? After all, she did get three hundred million for voting for the legislation.

Her selling out reminded me of the story about the good looking blonde in Vegas, sitting on a bar stool. She was approached by a well dressed drunk who asked if she would sleep with him for a million dollars. She quickly replied “yes”. He then asked if she would sleep with him for ten dollars. She asked, “What do you think I am? A common whore?” He replied, “Lady, we have already established that. Now we are just haggling about the price!” Unfortunately the writer thinks this represents the mind set of too many politicians who are so anxious to “bring home the bacon” in the form of earmarks. They sell their vote to another pol to get what they want in pork. It just proves the old adage “Power corrupts”.

The temp quickly rose to eighty six at noon when the driver was enjoying his salmon salad stuffed bell pepper and Onie was having a Nova Scotia poor man's lunch, lobster sandwich.

The Shreveport city limits we gained at one forty five and we were in the parking lot of the Horseshoe Casino before two.

It was eighty one.

Mike and Marguerite arrived shortly after we did and we transferred four cases of canned fish to their car. Jay and Kay arrived at two thirty and two cases of fish went into their car.

Crowded into the Marlin the six of us visited and hugged as if we hadn't seen each other in five or six years. In fact it had been about five or six weeks. We had something to drink and some snacks that Onie rustled up. It seems she is able to produce wonderful edibles on the shortest of notice.

Later, inside the Horseshoe we joined the players club. Onie and I each got two free meals for joining.

The six of us went to the buffet at seven thirty. The writer should shun all buffets that are edible as it seems he usually overeats. We won't delve into the psychological reasons for this as there really aren't any. It is just when excellent food in mass quantities is available at little or no cost he seems unable to control his hands as they fill plate after plate. A meal of two or three thousand calories is probably not unusual and when one counts the numerous deserts, I had four this evening but they were small, the total caloric count may approach five thousand. That is enough for three days.

After the meal the writer was miserable but so was the navigator even though she had shown much more restraint than the driver. All through the rest of the evening the driver paid the price for his gluttony, a sin you know, and on into the night but he kept reminding himself, it WAS a free meal.

At ten the driver, with the navigator in tow, managed to waddle to the coach where they went to bed at ten thirty.

Outside it was seventy two.

Inside it was miserable.

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN

Wednesday, September 29

We were up at eight fifteen.

Outside bright bright sunshine came down through a crystal blue sky that held sixty five degree air.

We started the generator to make Chai tea and coffee.

Later we met Kay and Jay and Mike and Marguerite for breakfast. This time there were more judicious servings and number of selections even though we were still eating free meals.

Fond adieus were said to Mike and Marguerite, about ten thirty, as they prepared to head back to Denton. Then Kay and Jay were ready to leave and more hugs and handshakes were exchanged with promises for the group to meet again, soon. We are all celebrating more birthdays and are coming to realize just how important friends are. All of us have seen friends say their final goodbyes within the last year. We were all leaving changed from when we met. Some of us had fewer cases of canned salmon and others had more. If it takes canned salmon to bring us together, so be it.

By noon we were on the road again.

We stayed on Twenty until we reached Seventy Nine, exit four, where we stopped at the Flying J at at noon. We left there thirty minutes later. We had been delayed by inconsiderate folks who occupied the fuel stations for much too long. Our calculations told us we had averaged ten miles to the gallon, again.

Rolling again, with the dash air on, it had begun running as soon as the wheels were turning, we headed down Seventy Nine.

Seventy Nine is a major road connecting Interstate Twenty with U.S. Fifty Nine in Texas. Part of Seventy Nine lies in Louisiana and part in Texas. Louisiana is not holding up their end of the bargain when it comes to keeping up their part of the road. It is quite bumpy and rough.

How our spirits lifted and our hearts raced as we were back in the Lone Star State at five minutes to one. We were so close to home now that we could almost smell the flowers.

A call was placed to our friends and neighbors, Jim and Polly Johnson, to let them know we would be home this evening.

Jim said he would unlock and open our gate for us and set the house air conditioner on seventy five. We will be able to roll right into to the home place and have a nice cool house waiting for us.

In addition Polly is cooking a dish for us to take to the church supper tonight. The last Wednesday of each month we have a potluck supper at church followed by a business meeting. We will be home too late for Onie to cook for the event so Polly is covering for us. Barring any unforeseen difficulties we will be home in time to go to church where we will see some of our Coldspring friends.

Texas was doing her part on Seventy Nine. The road here was nice and smooth, seamlessly smooth,

We crossed the Sabine River which was running bank full when we left. Now it was almost dry. I could see the bottom and couldn't remember last time I could do that. It was running clear which says there has been no rain for a long time. It has been a long hot, dry summer.

Log Slough, normally the home of many varmints as well as alligators was almost dry.

Nearby Fish Slough was completely dry.

It looks like one would suppose it should in late September in Northeast Texas except it is overly dry. Fields and pastures that had herds of cows rotated on them are still green, others that were overgrazed are brown. Yards that had been watered are still green but no water meant brown yards. There were lots of weeds dying as one would expect. Some color was showing in the tree leaves as they began to die and turn brown. Certainly there won't be the color we have seen in the northeast but there will be some yellows, oranges and tinge of reds on some trees. It will be nothing to rival the New England color spectacle but it will be vintage East Texas.

Passing through Carthage we notice it is home to Texas Country Music Hall of Fame.

We turned on to Fifty Nine south at one twenty. Now we were really getting close to home. Fifty Nine runs just thirteen miles east of our home on Lake Road.

The goat weed here in northeast Texas looked like it was a few weeks away from dropping its seed. Goat weed is a favorite natural food for Mourning Dove. If the Kansas dove find these fields, once the seeds have dropped, the late Mourning Dove season should be a good one, Several of the fields were covered with the weed. Even with the good stand of goat weed we need rain to fill the ponds for water for the birds. They can't stay in the area very long without water. They will have to keep heading south. The current season has probably peaked with coming of the cold front but many good days of hunting remain if conditions are right.

The oldest continually inhabited town in Texas, Nacogdoches, came into view at two fifteen. Nacogdoches is the home of Fore Travel Motor Homes. When we were passing here in May it looked like they were shut down. Now looks like they are back in production even though it is on a limited basis. With unlimited funds we would have a Fore Travel which the writer considers a mighty fine coach. The coaches hold their value better than any other coach built.

Before leaving Nacogdoches we stopped for a small Blizzard and a small dip cone from Dairy Queen.

The further south we go the drier things seem to be.

At two o'clock there was no doubt we were back in Texas, it was eighty seven degrees.

Five miles north of Lufkin we saw a cute billboard which made us laugh right out loud. Some wag paid for a huge sign with a picture of a smiling Jimmy Carter on it and a caption that read, “Miss Me Yet?” We had to laugh at that but feel it has to be the ultimate insult to anyone who may have voted for Obama as Carter will probably go down as the most ineffective president of the twentieth century. He was undoubtedly the most honest but also the greatest failure. He should have stayed on the peanut farm.

Lufkin is the home of the Texas Forestry Museum and we passed through the city at two thirty.

By three it was ninety two. We felt we were being welcomed home.

It appeared that the pine bark beetle that did so much damage in Texas last year had run its course, taking out the weak and damaged trees. We were well down into East Texas now, well over a hundred miles, and so far we had seen just three dead pines. It looked like they had succumbed to the pine bark beetle. One appeared to be very very old and the others had been damaged by high winds with limbs broken off which had probably weakened them making them susceptible to infestation. By contrast last year we had seen hundreds, if not thousands, of pines that had been killed by pine bark beetles.

We were so close to home now that the Cummins was straining at the reins to get to the barn but we had one last stop to make, the phone company in Livingston. We got there at five minutes to four. The driver went in to get our DSL line reactivated. He talked to Joyce who was very helpful and pleasant. When the last detail had been attended to he returned to the coach to continue homeward, four twenty five.

We stopped next to the Coldspring, San Jacinto County courthouse, at five. Turned left onto One Fifty and headed for the house where we disconnected the toad, backed in and plugged in to shore power, leveled, put the slides out, got the water and sewer hooked up and were at rest at five thirty.

It was eighty one point seven, a veritable cold spell, for this time of year.

Today we had traveled a measly two hundred six miles. But the ending mileage on the odometer read one hundred eighteen thousand four hundred seven miles which meant we had traveled twelve thousand seven hundred twenty two miles since leaving this place. It had been a long haul, one filled with adventure as well as relaxation but we were glad to be home.

Outside the coach the Rose of Sharon was blooming as was the Confederate Rose and the Gardenias. The Calla Lilies still sported their orange blossoms and the white crepe myrtle was still blooming as well. The yard had been mowed recently but showed signs of stress from the drought.

Our flower/shrub beds were full of weeds and would have to be placed on the “to do” list. The dead trees we left behind had been taken down and removed. Onie's garden spot was ready for her fall garden. Jim Johnson had supervised these jobs and his help is appreciated beyond expression. The place looked pretty good overall.

It was good to touch the green green grass of home,