This is Day 375 of 15 Days to Flatten the Curve. Deb’s still feelin’ a bit puny today, and so’s Scout, but overall we’re doin’ fine.
We hopped the trolley again this afternoon and went back into town. I guess you could call it unfinished business — Deb coveted a handmade coffee mug like mine from the pottery, and we wanted to grab a few more Mason jars of moonshine from Old Forge Distillery.
Yeah, it’s that good.
I enjoy bourbon, Jack and, on rare occasions, single-malt scotch. I take mine neat, maybe with a splash. But I’ve never had a taste for straight ‘shine, so today we picked up a few domesticated varieties — Apple Pie, “Cinnamon Bomb Cherries” (with fresh cherries) and a backup jar of Blackberry.
As I said to a friend the other day, “If candy could swing a hammer…”
Under clear skies, we wandered through the other shops for a while. Notably, we had an interesting conversation with the like-minded owner of a small knife shop, a place that provided bowls of Band-Aids on each display case. The penetrating cold — I mean, we could see snow on the nearby peaks — eventually ran us back to the trolley station, though, and the comfort of our home-on-wheels.
After a quiet dinner and pressing through the usual chores, Deb and I have settled at the dinette to wind down for the day. Up at the campground pavilion, Nashville recording artist Jeff Anderson is belting out some serious Country for an appreciative crowd.
It’s quite the group of Americans camped here this weekend. All the signs are there, from the flags they fly to the music they play to something as simple as plain ol’ manners. We feel at home.
Deb and I are jazzed about the prospects of the months ahead. Some days will be less perfect than others, as we’ve already seen, but we have some glorious times in front of us. I told her tonight that this shakedown has proven that we can actually pull off our dream.
She agreed, of course. We’re a team.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.