The following was written to get John caught up on the days he missed walking while in NY:
7/14/16 I was walking perhaps a quarter of an hour earlier as you were leaving with Bob A. to go to NY. Two or three cars passed me, and all the drivers waved. Lately the red car has been the first one out of our neighborhood, but I was ahead of him. I love the way he greets us, holding his hand near his window. I think of it as a blessing. He didn’t go by me until I was out on Qualla, and I was far enough down the steep hill that I didn’t know if he came out of our street. I decided not to wave, and just then he went by. He had a verbal good morning as well as the blessing wave. I quickly called out and waved big so he could see me in his mirror if he looked.
Things were different across from the fire station. Four of the ten snow plow trucks were missing out of the lineup. The others seemed to be in their regular places. I wondered what on earth they were doing on a densely foggy morning.
7/15/16 The Park branches were inaudible on the way out and barely sounding on the opposite side. [We have two streams that go under the road and join together before they get to Shawn and Bob’s place. For some reason, they are called “branch” instead of stream or creek.]
Queen Anne’s lace is putting on an impressive display beside the cornfield on Qualla Road. Also, in that area, the junky red car has not moved. You noticed the tires were flat, and they were flat enough that I noticed them today.
7/16/16 Just after the big bend in the road, I heard a screech owl in the distance. It must have been in the woods behind the rental cabins.
There were not many hungry breakfast eaters at the cafe. I counted five cars, in contrast to ten the day before. Of course, on a Saturday there was far less traffic on the road, as well.
Fog/mist was quite heavy at our house, so I was surprised to find the highway on the floor of the valley fog-free. The valley was filled with mist overhead, but I could see the road clearly from one bend to the other. I didn’t have to go through the thud routine. [John walks much faster than I do, so if he starts across the highway with an on-coming car in view, I know I have to put on speed. Fog makes the crossing dangerous, because many people here do not have their headlights on. Once I scooted across and paused on the other side. I explained to John that a when speeding car made me feel uncomfortable, I would note the point of impact if I had not gotten off the road. At that time, I’d say “thud” to myself. Now I say it out loud, and he knows the crossing was a bit too tight for me.]
7/17/16 [Readers get a day off, because we don’t walk on Sundays.]
7/18/16 Three wild turkeys crossed the road in front of me just before Connie and Dave’s property. They must have been Mama, Papa, and Susie. Straggling behind was Sammy, running for his life.
Can’t you imagine what was being said? Mama squawks, “Hurry, Sammy! Come ON!!!! RUN!!!!”
There is one in every crowd.
“Don’t worry. I’m coming,” Sammy says slowly as he stops to look at a snail.
“SAMMY!!!!” bellows Papa.
“AWWWKKKK!” squeals Sammy as he runs helter-skelter across the road..
Mama scolds, “Naughty boy! She was reaching in her pocket to shoot you! It would serve you right to have your photo plastered all over Facebook! Next time you run when I call you!”