You know how there are those times when you are reading an excellent book when you hit the middle and the whole thing slows to a crawl? It’s always due to information gathering and everything connecting somehow. It’s needed for the story to take shape in a way to be fully understood but it’s boring. That is where I am in my journey. I am in the middle and getting to the good parts. But first I have to read the middle.
I left Mississippi and went to Tennessee today. While I am driving between towns (and I use the word town loosely as some of these “towns” are really just a run down gas station with possibly a store or post office) there is farmland everywhere you look. It could be me but farmland looks so lazy. The ground sprawls. Even the steepest of hills are gradual and covered with long grasses that tip a slight bit because of the wind. The birds drift about without a care in the world and the cows are on a permanent vacation. Um, until they are butchered. But let’s not talk about that. I doubt that even happens on the farm. Besides, isn’t that a permanent vacation all in itself? I even passed a massive farm with bunches of goats. Goats are feisty. Not these goats, they were all lazing about eating grass. So when I look at farms I get a sense of ease. I don’t know who I am kidding here. Farms are freakishly hard work. The work starts when it’s dark and it ends when it’s dark. When you own a farm there are always fences to fix, socks to knit, eggs to collect, animals to care for and wood to cut or a tractor to drive somewhere. Usually down the paved roads in front of someone like me going 5 miles an hour for the next 50 miles in a place where there is just enough traffic that passing them is totally and completely out of the question. WHERE are these people going? Do they take their tractor to the corner store for something and it just so happens the “local” corner store is 50 effing miles away from their house??? You know they don’t need milk! Just saying. Woops… so the point is that farm work is super super hard. Take it from this blog I found along the way. So anyway, there’s farm land. Lots of it. I have never in my life seen so many farms. Row after tidy row of verdure. Mile after mile of things growing to help us along in life. Ever wonder why horses get nice white wooden fences while cows get cheap run down wire fences? Me too.
Up I went on route 55. All excited about Memphis. After all, that’s where the King lived! Graceland bound! 24 hours of Elvis Presley!! YAY!! And then I got there. Now I am not certain if I am simply blowing things up in my mind so when I see the actual place it’s a total let down? After all, before getting to Memphis I did drive into Graceland on top of red carpets and rose petals. Men dressed as Elvis greeted me at my hotel. Everything sparkled and shimmered seductively and they served free peanut butter and fried banana sandwiches wherever you went. Even the library. Just kidding. They didn’t serve them at the library… That’s just silly. But when I actually got to Memphis it was just another town that was run down and weary. After feeling totally stumped about not wanting to enjoy Memphis and “all it had to offer”, (which is essentially Graceland, and I wasn’t leaving Jim in the car as I didn’t like how hot it was and I didn’t like the looks of most of the people there) I made some calls and figured out the reason. It’s because Memphis is a hole. The only reason people go there is because of Graceland. Seriously. Otherwise it would be Mississippi without a river to claim because Mississippi beat them to it. I am not playing a part in this madness. I drove by though, does that count?? I went and filled up the tank, got some snacks and water for Jim and I to share along the way (he likes the banana chips in the mixed nuts and I don’t), and some coffee for me. Oh yeah, I then went and found Beale Street which was mixed between industry and yet more ghetto. I had just about had it when I found it. I got excited, went to park, took a right going up the wrong way on a one way of three lanes of traffic, almost caused some serious bent metal, slammed a U turn and headed for the highway. I got a really good look though and it was something to behold. It was about one block of very fun and colorful bars and stores full of things I can’t comprehend buying.
You know what is amazing? How I am drawn to ghetto areas like a moth to a flame. Most exits I take to get gas amount to me never even getting out of the car. I drive in, look around, turn around without stopping and get back on the highway. Every time I am lost I end up in the ghetto. Since my mind cannot grasp the fact that half the freaking US is ghetto, I am going to say it’s me. Honestly, it’s creepy. I celebrate when I pull off and less than half the houses are boarded up.
I am now in Russellville. It’s a super nice place. The people are nice and it’s got a relaxed feeling to it even though there is bustle. Since my head was killing me, I stopped driving and checked into a hotel nice and early. After getting settled I took Jim for a walk we both sorely needed. Since 99.9% of this place is fields I just headed off down the street and not a quarter of a mile from the hotel we found a large grassy area. It was so full of grasshoppers the ground jumped about in front of me while I walked. Since Jim couldn’t quite catch them (they're green, the grass is green, he's color blind or whatever), I caught them and brought them onto the parking lot next to the field so he could have an easier chance. He ate them. Every last one. It was gross but I couldn’t stop getting them for him he was enjoying himself so much. Tomorrow we might just do a lot of that while the truck is being serviced. Either that or we are going to read under a tree. Yeah. After I am headed back down route 10 west for New Mexico. :) This is where it's going to get good.
I have been thinking about this whole dog thing and I must find one of those vests that service dogs wear. It’s not like people can ask you what your dog does for you right? When they say no dogs you say he’s a service dog, point to the vest and they let you in. Right? Maybe I can tell them I have a phobia of dogs and he keeps them away if anyone pushes for an explanation. People down here would have to think on that one for a while, giving me enough time to do what needed doing. The people here are a tad slower than up north. I had a woman drawl at me (after asking me what over and over until I realized I was talking to fast), “It’s like you talk one big word!!” I do declare.
Ah yes, and the promised pictures. Here are some of Mobile:
And here are more super graphic foot pictures!!!
I thought you might want to see the progross it’s making? Since people are a little bothered by it, I jazzed it up a bit for you.
Oh! How could I forget??? I finished two of the screens for the house! Here are the rest of the photos!
And then there is James. He’s the best travel companion I could ask for (outside of present company of course!). He’s calm, patient, keeps scary people at bay with looks alone (we differ in that aspect), only has to pee when I do and enjoys the same music. He rules.
I still haven't done my teeth! Can you stand it???
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