After that dry spell between mid-July and last weekend, it’s hard not to be consciously grateful for rain. Late Friday through midday yesterday contributed another three-quarters of an inch to our recovery, and because it fell over the span of 18 hours or so, it soaked in.
November typically is the year’s wettest month in this part of Ozarkansas, bringing just over five inches of precipitation. We’re well on our way to tripling the average.
Deb’s three-day weekend (Veterans Day) opens things up for us. Friday evening, we had dinner at Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs — the special was “spicy smoked brisket chili” with cornbread, and it was amazing — after which we adjourned to Crooked Creek Pub for beer and live music.
A swap meet at an antiques shop on the near side of Mountain Home drew our attention yesterday morning. Most of the wares were too pricey for our budget, but Deb picked up a primitive child’s chair at 50% off (she intends to hang it on the cabin wall), and I found a Vietnam-era (stamped 1966) USGI mess kit for ten bucks.
After lunch at Slim Chickens — our first time there, and an excellent meal — we ended up at another antiques store, Miller’s Trading Post in Flippin. There I bought a like-new Realtree button-down field shirt ($7). We also found a vintage wardrobe for the bedroom ($60), which I’ll be back to pick up later this week.
I mention the prices we pay for this stuff not to justify the expenditure or as some sort of accounting, but simply to show what’s possible when we resist the temptation to always buy new-in-box. The reward for shopping the secondhand market is getting The Good Stuff for pennies on the dollar.
We were greeted by an odd and unexpected sight on arriving at the laundromat in Gassville this morning. One of the patrons, his Chevy pickup parked in front of the entrance, had the tailgate flipped down and was doing woodcarving while he waited. Seriously.
At Deb’s urging, I walked over to talk with him. He used blades of various profiles to shape, by hand, lengths of eastern red cedar into dignified and remarkably detailed figures of Indians. (His grandfather was Cherokee.) The pieces he was working on today both were commissioned — one would sell for $500, the other for $800.
Great guy, more than willing to talk about his life and work. He had the first of five heart attacks at age 42. Now 54, he seems to have found both rhythm and peace, along with an enviable balance of pride and humility.
His larger pieces are priced well out of our reach, obviously. I overheard Deb discussing him carving a modest shelf figurine for us, however, so there may be more to this story. Stay tuned.
We took the long way Home — looping into Cotter, side-tripping through Rea Valley, carefully negotiating the steep and narrow dirt road over the eastern flanks of Hall Mountain, tiptoeing the truck over washed-out stretches along the south bank of Crooked Creek.
We make our own adventures. And every now and then, adventure finds us.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB