When we got back to Ernie after dinner with our Canadian friends late yesterday afternoon I put my feet up and closed my eyes. It was over three hours later when Deb nudged me and told me it was time for bed.
There would be no blogging, the second time in three days that I haven’t had the zip to compose and publish anything here. I doubt that’ll become a regular occurrence.
Yesterday began with our friends locking themselves out of their motorhome. (It happens.) Fortunately one window was unlatched, allowing them to climb up and open the door from the inside. After a pleasant drive east, we stopped by the homesite and shared our plans for the spot we’d chosen, then lingered a bit in Deb’s cousin’s garage.
Our friends had packed sandwiches for all of us. Deb and I knew the perfect place to lunch — the summit — but making that happen would involve three trips in our two-seat Ranger. I was happy to take the wheel, getting some much-needed practice running the cut we’d cleared last winter.
Once gathered up-top we relaxed and enjoyed our simple picnic. We did a little exploring, followed by three more shuttle runs and another hour down in the cool garage. Back in Harrison later, looking for a place to have dinner, we were mildly frustrated by southern tradition — most restaurants open at all on a Sunday were closed by then. Eventually we spied a crowded parking lot at Western Sizzlin, pulled in and grazed at its buffet.
We had a spectacular day, hot and humid but full of moments that make it worth getting out of bed in the morning.
Clouds billowing in the sky this morning hinted that we might get some rain today. Burn bans were lifted after last week’s soakings, but it’s still pretty dry here and we could use a couple of good thundershowers.
We eased our way into this Monday with more coffee than usual. On the site next door our Canadian neighbors hosted a mobile RV tech who replaced their coach’s water pump and chased problems with its chassis air conditioning. Deb and I had a few errands to run and did our best to make the exercise entertaining.
First we drove up the hill to eyeball this campground’s expansion. It was damned impressive — the sewer lines are run and the tanks have been poured, water and electric are in and grading is nearly done. We’ve been watching developments since we first arrived last May, and we’re thrilled to see the area approaching completion.
Next we headed past Bellefonte to check out an indoor flea market called the “Junk-Shun Barn.” Among booths piled with books, glassware, jewelry, pocketknives, cast iron and all manner of antiques were numerous displays of new MAGA gear — 2024 as well as 2020 and 2016, Take America Back and Keep America Great and, of course, Let’s Go Brandon.
People, this is ‘Merica. This is where we are. It makes me smile.
With our younger boy’s wedding coming up in October Deb’s on the hunt for a dress, and she shopped for ideas at a local boutique. We concluded our foray with a stop at Walmart for gas ($3.659) and provisions.
Now a word about current events, specifically political events. From breathtakingly inept foreign policy, to rhetoric that marginalizes patriotism, to the kongressional kangaroo kommittee “investigating” January 6th, to sweeping legislation that assaults individual liberty, further cripples domestic production of energy and more, Doctor Dementia’s desperate cabal has cemented its place as the most anti-American regime in the history of our nation.
And today, Mar A Lago is, in Trump’s words, “under siege, raided and occupied by a large group of FBI agents.” Absent predicate crime that’s not the pursuit of justice — it’s harassment.
(See also “87,000 new IRS agents.”)
Stop looking for end games. There’s no tidy “story” here. What’s happening begins and ends with the obvious — the Left, in the form of Democrats and other progressives, hates us.
They hate America.
Their appetite for power and control exceeds their capacity for morality and has no limit. Trump’s not the target — we are.
They’re our countrymen only through an accident of birth. They’ve chosen to be our enemies, not our opponents. We can’t reconcile or compromise our way out of this — the Left must be defeated, subdued, banished from our midst.
That’ll take time. The fight will be difficult, the victory worth the cost.
My fellow Patriots, put your affairs in order.
One year ago today, we saw The World’s Only Corn Palace at night.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.