Double Springs Alabama
I have to leave the campground today & venture the 7 miles or so into town to go to the post office. I have books that are due next week that I have to return to my library.
I've read such GREAT books this trip! In case you've missed them the first time: Days of Grace by Catherine Hill, Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich, The Bone Bed by Patricia Cornwell (you have to be into serial killers and the like to enjoy this one!), and most recently The Shanghai Girls by Lisa See!
It is windy and very cold, as that huge hurricane is due to hit shore soon - altho we are several hundred miles from shore and we don't expect any rain, the wind and chill has been intense.
To leave the campground, I have to get my truck travel ready, which means I have to make sure everything is put away, windows and skylights are closed (not that they've been open in this cold), shelves are locked, and everything is disconnected, like the water hose & electric cord.
Then I can leave. I am wary of driving through George Wallace's old stamping grounds, as I should be. I drive into the down, one of the 2 main roads, and the first thing I see flappin wildly in the breeze is, yes, a HUGE confederate flag.
I promise myself I will not stay long, as I take a left and then a right into the post office driveway. I've run on veggie oil here, even tho it is cold and not so far away, I do NOT want to have to replenish diesel in this town: along with a church every other building, there are three gas stations: shell, BP, and chevron - ahhh the ones bringing us the superstorm tomorrow!
Everyone stops and stares as I pass, the few white folks that are out and about. At the post office, a 40 or so year old white woman in her pretty new van pulls in behind me and tells me she's reading everything on my truck. As patiently as I can, I wait for her to comment.
She just tells me she doesn't want to hold me up but wants to read everything. I wait and she still doesn't speak.
I have decided to try to focus on the "disarm" part of my message. I ask her does she think it's time to disarm? She, in her thick southern accent, says to me as long as they disarm first.
I ask her if that's a southern christian attitude as she smiles as politely as her upbringing demands, and then wheels out of the parking lot.
I've read such GREAT books this trip! In case you've missed them the first time: Days of Grace by Catherine Hill, Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich, The Bone Bed by Patricia Cornwell (you have to be into serial killers and the like to enjoy this one!), and most recently The Shanghai Girls by Lisa See!
It is windy and very cold, as that huge hurricane is due to hit shore soon - altho we are several hundred miles from shore and we don't expect any rain, the wind and chill has been intense.
To leave the campground, I have to get my truck travel ready, which means I have to make sure everything is put away, windows and skylights are closed (not that they've been open in this cold), shelves are locked, and everything is disconnected, like the water hose & electric cord.
Then I can leave. I am wary of driving through George Wallace's old stamping grounds, as I should be. I drive into the down, one of the 2 main roads, and the first thing I see flappin wildly in the breeze is, yes, a HUGE confederate flag.
I promise myself I will not stay long, as I take a left and then a right into the post office driveway. I've run on veggie oil here, even tho it is cold and not so far away, I do NOT want to have to replenish diesel in this town: along with a church every other building, there are three gas stations: shell, BP, and chevron - ahhh the ones bringing us the superstorm tomorrow!
Everyone stops and stares as I pass, the few white folks that are out and about. At the post office, a 40 or so year old white woman in her pretty new van pulls in behind me and tells me she's reading everything on my truck. As patiently as I can, I wait for her to comment.
She just tells me she doesn't want to hold me up but wants to read everything. I wait and she still doesn't speak.
I have decided to try to focus on the "disarm" part of my message. I ask her does she think it's time to disarm? She, in her thick southern accent, says to me as long as they disarm first.
I ask her if that's a southern christian attitude as she smiles as politely as her upbringing demands, and then wheels out of the parking lot.
posted by Xan @ 10:40 AM
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