Wearing a hog snout.
And its head moves side to side.
Apparently in Ozark this is not the beginning to a horror flick, its advertising.
Dante the Dark Gray Impala and I were trekking home from a whirlwind trip (almost literally!) to Springdale, in the NW corner of Arkansas. We left yesterday when it was 70ish, and made it to the hotel just as the storm band hit, though thankfully only with buckets of rain instead of tornadoes. I just about lost my fingertips to frostbite while filling up the tank today.
The trip itself went well. I learned a little something about manufacturing construction goods, stood on a roof, saw a lot of sprinkler placards--which is always exciting for a property person--and had some great conversations. But, Dante and I both were ready to cross the 430 bridge and park. If by some chance I had forgotten this, my stop in Ozark for a water would have reminded me. There's nothing like nearly having heart attack in a gas station to make you long for the familiar. Needless to say, Dante and I didn't linger.
At home, I opened the door to find two indifferent felines, the same pile of laundry I left behind yesterday, and a fridge full of food I would have to make for myself.
And I was so grateful. Those are my indifferent felines. All that laundry fits me. That is the random collection of food I bought, and I can combine it in any weird way I want. And not a dummy or pig snout anywhere, praise Jesus.
Yeah, it's good to be home.
Amen, there really is 'no place like home' :) Love you, proud to be your sister, and hoping to rendezvous soon!
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