When I stepped outside with my coffee this morning, an omen greeted me — a good-sized katydid was perched on the back of my camp chair. Some consider a visit from a single katydid to be a symbol of prosperity and good luck.
I’ll take that. It stuck around a good while, too, watching over us from the side of the bus.
After installing four TireMinder transmitters on Mercy’s wheels, I spent the rest of the morning packing what I could, while Deb did the same inside the coach. It was our way of gaining ground on what needs to be done before we leave — what we did today doesn’t need to be done in the morning.
Deb’s cousin and his girlfriend stopped by early this afternoon. We drove to the local sports bar we’d enjoyed last week for lunch, beer and goodbyes.
Incidentally, nearly all of the TVs in that sports bar were tuned not to the Olympics, but to championship rodeo. Just thought I’d mention that.
Tonight, the 31st of July, feels strangely like the 30th of April, the day before we set out from Second Chance Ranch. Yes, we’ve covered a whole lot of ground already. We’ve made a ton of memories that’ll last as long as we breathe.
But despite all the miles and trials and smiles, this feels like a new beginning. Our long July in The Ozarks has been a time of adjusting, preparing to travel in a new way with Mercy in tow. So this evening, the sense that we’ve done all we could is strong.
At dawn our journey resumes — and truly, it begins again.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.