It's 9AM
How was the drive, she asked.
No need to wonder if it was safe.
I was sitting right next to her.
It was…
Amazing.
I had to take a piece of the Interstate to get to the old two lane blacktop.
Fought a couple of big rigs and one overzealous jacked up Ram truck to get there.
One I did, it was like chilling on a dirt road.
Hwy 70 runs parallel to the Interstate, though you have to cut North or South once you hit Brinkley to catch a bridge across the Mighty Mississippi.
Two lane blacktop cutting through cornfields and cotton fields and soybean fields.
Rice farms that stretched from the horizon in all directions.
Tiny towns with populations under a thousand.
Or two in some cases.
There were larger towns, of course.
Lonoke has a well developed strip of downtown that borders the highway and now defunct railroad track.
There’s a state famous resteraunt in one of the brick buildings called The Grumpy Rabbit that is supposed to be worth a visit.
We haven’t yet, though seeing it reminded me we should.
Some folks turned the old railway bed into a trail that runs from city to city, and though it has yet to stretch all the way to Memphis to connect with the Greenway, that is the plan.
I made a mental note on the to be done list to go run it once they do.
Maybe before, though not in July.
The Delta is a sauna, thick and humid and heavy with heat.
And though the ride was awesome, because it gave me time to think and time to breath and time to hope and plans.
It also reminded me of the work that needs to be done.
I saw the first empty and abandoned house ten minutes in and decided to keep count.
One hundred and twenty seven empty, abandoned and almost derelict homes and single business buildings along the highway.
And they say there’s a housing crisis.
There were fish farms in the flatlands, and minnow farms next to brownwater bayous.
All the while I planned to keep the windows down and the radio up, but more often than not, I just turned it off and listened to the wind.
It might have been echoing around in the space between my ears, but maybe that’s what more people need.
Moments of quiet, moments when the only noise is nature or the world passing by at 65 miles per hour, one hand on the wheel, the other on a cold one in the console.
By cold one, I mean Coke, cause long drives and cold beer don’t mix, except at the end to celebrate arriving safe, sound and in a good mood because of avoiding the better part of a big thing that gets under your skin.
It was worth it.
I’ve said before travel ball isn’t really about the games, and this weekend proved it.
Half our team couldn’t make it so we merged with another team from MO where our organization is HQ’d.
I’m not suggesting it was a disaster, but…
It was not pretty.
We lost more games in four days of bracket play than we’ve lost all year.
The merged team was outclassed, outmanned and out gunned.
I almost got tossed because I made a hand motion to the umpire.
Not the one you think, I made a shooing motion accompanied by a very clean curse of “Horse Hockey.”
Because I had been warned not to say anything worse prior to arrival.
Yet the words Horse Hockey delivered with a “go away” motion made a very young umpire angry, and he started to give me the get gone finger.
That’s how a person is when they know they made a bad call and get called out for making a bad call.
Even if said call had zero outcome on the game.
But…
It is all part of the game.
Learning to deal with the cards you’re dealt and still trying your hardest when the odds are stacked against you.
Like how to fill 127 empty houses in a long Delta highway or finding time in a super stacked schedule to drive and think.
Or do something you enjoy that’s just for you.
PLUS
Breakers (Book 1)
Witch for Hire (A Witch's Path Book 1)
The Earthling (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 1)
And
Epoch - a sci fi adventure audiobook
Free Mystery and Suspense Stories group promo
Cool Off with a New Book group promo
Fantasy Free Reads group promo
What is with empty houses