Visitors

When Celeste called Tuesday evening to say they wouldn't be here until Wednesday, I told her to let me know when they left Moberly, Missouri, the town where they had camped out for the night.  So yesterday when she called as instructed, I told her we would ride toward them on 24 highway and meet them at Casey's General Store in Carrollton; I thought it was right on 24.  I told her if there was any problem hooking up to call us.  

"Trying to meet someone like that never works out," Cliff told me.  "Somebody ends up waiting on the others forever, or something goes wrong.  Are you sure there's a Casey's in Carrolton?"  

"What could go wrong?" I asked.

Silly me.  I forgot that half the roads in Missouri are "under improvement".  Just as we got to the edge of Carrolton we were re-routed onto a detour.

Then after asking a resident, I found out Casey's wasn't on 24 anyhow.  It's on 65.  

Thank goodness Celeste follows orders well.  She called and we met at a BP station; there they were with their motorcycles.  All's well that ends well, and we escorted them, through all the detours, to our house.  

  This is the only shot I have of them so far.  Hopefully I'll remember to take a picture of them before they hit the road for Reno, Nevada, today.  

I fixed them enchilada casserole for lunch and cheeseburgers for supper; Celeste asked, "Who are we eating?" and I told her it was Sir Loin.  

For desserts we had bread pudding and peanut butter cookies.  Since I never make these things for me and Cliff, my husband was a pretty happy camper.  "I don't know when you've made cookies," he said, munching away.    This morning we'll  have biscuits and gravy, another rare treat around here; that should adequately get the travelers through the first part of the day, a day that is predicted to be considerably cooler than the 99 degrees of yesterday.  

We saw an article in the Gold Wing magazine once about a group of motorcyclists you can join where you host other travelers as they pass through your area, giving them bed-and-breakfast for the night; they, in turn, will take you in when you're near them.  It seemed like a great idea until I saw pictures of some of the residences:  These were well-moneyed folks with mansion-like residences where this crass hillbilly would never be comfortable, and I couldn't even imagine them spending the night in our mobile home; so we thought no more about it.  

However, I have followed Celeste on her blog and on Facebook long enough that I knew I would be comfortable with them staying at my house.  So this is working out just fine.  Maybe we should start our own bed-and-breakfast group for ordinary, not-so-rich people.    

Like my new header picture?

I got tired of looking at the picture of a very pregnant Bonnie.  After all, she has that big old baby who is two weeks old today.  Max has learned a lot in his short life.  He and his mother seem to avoid the side of the ditch where he fell in over a week ago, so they've both learned something on that score.  Max already knows what happens when he touches an electric fence, so he stays on the proper side of them.  He does hang out with Jody a lot, as closely as he dares with an electric fence between them.  

Max is taking more milk all the time.  Originally I was bringing in two gallons of milk every morning; it's now down to one gallon, and I figure within another week I won't have to milk at all unless we need some milk.  That means we won't be so tied down at home and can go places and do things.  
Our friends did not make it here yesterday evening.  I talked to Celeste on the phone before bedtime, and she said between the breakdown with her bike and the extreme heat (99 degrees), she couldn't go on any further, so they camped.  I expect to see them some time today.  

I met a blogger friend in Georgia!

Celeste, Pat, me and Cliff.


I've followed Celeste's AOL journal for four years or so. We have several common interests: among them, motorcycle-riding and horses; and I always figured I'd meet her eventually, since she's practically on the way to my son's home in Columbus, Georgia.

Bless her heart, I'm sure I got her and Pat out of bed Saturday morning when I called (Pat works nights), but they met up with us anyhow; we left my son's house at 4:30 A.M. Saturday, so it was still fairly early when we arrived at the Waffle House in Ringgold, Georgia.

Cliff enjoyed talking motorcycles with Pat, and we surely were glad to meet these folks face-to-face. To see her entry about our meeting, click HERE.