When we crest the last rise on US 62 leading east into Yellville (see today’s header image), we catch a glimpse of mountains at the near horizon. This morning they were soft and hazy, cloaked in mist. “Y’know,” I said to Deb, “those are our mountains. That’s where we live.”
(I always say that.)
We stopped at the hardware for zip-ties, the post office to check our box (we’ve both been called to jury duty next month) and Harps for snacks. On to Gassville, where we dropped off stuff at the storage unit and picked up the fifth-wheel’s title at the RV dealership.
Heading back west, Deb said, “Split a cheeseburger meal with me?” I was about to consent to McDonald’s burgers before 11am when we passed a cool-looking food wagon — we reconsidered our priorities, turned the truck around and went back.
Best decision ever. (Today, anyway.) Home-cooked, made-from-scratch American food. Amazing.
We went up to The Mountain, parked at the homesite and strung some solar lights over the new picnic table. We saw that our septic guy had been there and installed the waste-water hookup for the RV.
At Deb’s cousin’s place, Smudge played with his dogs (again), covered herself in mud (again) and got her ass handed to her (again). Over the course of the day we saw four whitetail deer, three red-tailed hawks and countless butterflies.
The Ozarkansas skies were breathtaking for our drive back to Harrison.
All that made for a great Saturday. Tomorrow we’ll spruce up around the bus — company’s comin’.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.