December 31, 2016. A Rainy Day at Gulf Coast RV Resort, Beaumont, TX.

December 31, 2016.  A Rainy Day at Gulf Coast RV Resort, Beaumont TX.  We expected to be on Galveston Island today.  We  awoke to a steady, if light rain.  The RV park serves a hot breakfast at the club house.  We walked, using an umbrella, to the club house, ate and returned to Harvey.  The rain had gotten heavier.  Neither of us wanted to spend the day driving in the rain.  Moreover, we didn't have to.  We had no reservation on the island so we opted to stay put.  I paid the nice lady in the office for another night and we spent most of the day in Harvey, reading and napping to the pitter-patter of the falling rain reverberating off the top of Harvey.

The rain finally slowed about 4:00 PM.  We ventured out for a walk and discovered the roads within the park to be covered with water.  The land is exceedingly flat here and there was no place for the water to go.  Several of the concrete roads were covered with standing water.  We both returned to Harvey with wet shoes.  Annie's jeans were wet about six inches from the hems.  Her socks were soaked.

There is a pool here, but it isn't heated.  Too bad.  This would have been a good day to take a swim.  We were already wet.

The line of rocking chairs is entirely appropriate.  Most of the people here are in their 60s and 70s and up.  However, there were no takers as we passed by this afternoon.  On another day, I can imagine old timers sitting, rocking, whittling, jawing, and maybe spitting.  They would be telling stories of back home and their work lives before becoming road warriors.  It would have been spellbinding stuff.

We will bypass Galveston tomorrow.  We are scheduled to be on Mustang Island, part of Padre Island, near Corpus Christie tomorrow night.  We will be there for a while unless we grow restless or the weather doesn't cooperate.  We came to the Gulf Coast of Texas searching for warmer weather.  Last winter on the Alabama coast it was chilly.  If we don't find warm weather on Mustang Island, we'll just move further south.  The only limitation is the Mexican border.  Neither of us have any interest in driving Harvey in Mexico.  That is probably just our ignorance.  But, hey, that's who Malachi and Annie are.

Goodnight.

December 30, 2016. WWII Museum, Dad's Dress Uniform.

December 30, 2016.  WWII Museum, Dad's Dress Uniform.  We made the short drive from the north side of Lake Pontchartrain to downtown New Orleans early this morning.  The New Orleans skyline was prominent from the 25-mile long causeway over the lake.  Surprisingly, the traffic was light and I adroitly maneuvered Harvey along the narrow city streets.

Several months back, I received a letter from one of the museum curators informing me that Dad's uniform would be on display for three months.  I began planning to see it.  Today was the culmination of that plan.  Dad's uniform has been hanging in closets since his return to the states in July, 1945.  It was in the duplex rented by the folks on Edgerton in Trumann.  It moved to 512 Kentucky Street, 1704 Manning in Hannibal, 4515 Westridge in Kansas City, 1811 Greenwood in Jonesboro, in turn.  After Mom's death in 2006, I brought it home with me.

I didn't know what to do with it so it was stored in the cedar closet at our house.  Several years ago, I contacted the museum and spoke with one of the curators - there are six.  I told him the story behind the uniform and he agreed to accept it for the museum.  I was elated.  In January, 2014, Annie and I delivered it to the museum.  We were told that it would be displayed with other WWII artifacts representing the various branches of the armed services.  The curator took us to the display area and told us that different uniforms are displayed quarterly.  It has taken two years for Dad to rotate into the display case.  There is a very nice plaque detailing the story behind the uniform.

Annie and I stayed at the display for some time.  Since we had arrived when the museum opened, there was no one else in the area.  We lingered, admiring the uniform and taking pictures.  Dad would have been in his mid-20s when he wore the uniform.  It seemed small, yet remarkably well-proportioned.  Dad was in the peak of physical fitness in those years.  I said earlier that he would be proud that his uniform is displayed in the premier museum covering the war.  As I stood so close to the display and the uniform he courageously wore, I was very proud, too.
 
The Greatest Generation came home from the war and put it behind them.  They began their families, worked hard and enjoyed the American Dream.  They declined to discuss their war experiences and got on with life.  Yet, they were marked by their experience.  Dad was no different.  He never talked about his experiences.  He was just another quiet American hero.  I am proud of his service to our country and I am proud to be his son.

From Beaumont, Texas, goodnight.    

December 29, 2016. Jonesboro to Madisonville, LA

December 29, 2016.  Jonesboro to Madisonville, LA.  We are ensconced in Fairview Riverside State Park, Madisonville, LA tonight.  The park is spacious and clean.  It rests on the banks of the Tchefuncte River about thirty miles north of New Orleans.  It will be a short drive for us in the morning to the WWII Museum in the heart of downtown, near the Super Dome.

The park is dominated by majestic live oak and cypress trees covered with Spanish moss.  The river is remarkably clear for a lowland waterway.  I would have expected a sediment-laden murky river here near sea level, but not so.  The river flows into Lake Pontchartrain about two miles south of here.

Annie is not fond of the park.  There are warnings about gators here.  She spotted a poster warning about the various snakes which inhabit the area.  Gators and snakes are not Annie's favorites.  She wanted me to walk ahead of her.  "Watch for eyes in the water," she cautioned.  I assume she was talking about gator eyes.  Sadly, I saw none.  That could have been fun.

Today has been a full day of driving.  We left Jonesboro at 8:00 this morning and arrived here a little after 4:00 PM.  You will have noticed a dearth of barn photos today.  That's because there are very few visible from Interstate 55 in Mississippi.  One of the pictures shows the highway bordered by trees on both sides.  That is a typical view of the countryside from the Interstate.

You are wondering what the Washington Monument is doing in Mississippi.  Well, it isn't really the Washington Monument.  It is a cell tower located on Interstate 55 north of Jackson in Ridgeland.  Apparently, local authorities believed the miniature monument was more attractive than a steel tower.  I think they were right.  It does attract attention to passersby on the Interstate.

We will be at the WWII Museum when it opens in the morning.  I expect to be on the road to Texas by noon.  For now, goodnight.
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December 28, 2016. Home to Jonesboro.

December 28, 2016.  Home to Jonesboro.  So, here we go again.  Annie Farkley, Harvey the RV and me.  We are on the road again.  Our destination is the Gulf Coast of Texas.  First, however, we will again tour the WWII Museum in New Orleans.  This time, to view Dad's dress uniform which is on display there until March.  Dad would be exceedingly proud to know his uniform is there with other artifacts salvaged from closets and basements across America.  The Greatest Generation finally has a place for its memories.  We will be in New Orleans Friday morning.  I'll have pictures for you afterwards.

Today was a typical first day.  We were late getting away and arrived here about 6:00 PM.  We are in the Craighead Forest Park again.  Today's pictures are typical of a day's drive, barns and other sights along the highway.  There was a cute little trailer in front of an antique store.  I would judge it has about half a century of age on it.  The truck to which it is hitched is about the same age.

I am not sure what the message is on the barn in the last picture.  Apparently the owner has a grievance against local authorities.  The message is faded and hard to read.  I don't know whether that means the owner has lost interest in the fight, or if it means he is no longer able to apply paint to the barn.  I wonder.

We will be near New Orleans tomorrow night.  I'll try to collect some better images along the way.  Good night for now.

October 10, 2016. A Quiet Day at Lake of the Ozarks State Park.

October 10, 2016.  A Quiet Day at Lake of the Ozarks State Park.  Tomorrow we will head home in preparation for the fourth leg of our autumn travels.  Our final day here was spent in the park, nearly deserted now after a bustling weekend.  We took a walk this afternoon and that pretty much describes the active part of the day.  Later, we sat in the low autumn sun, reading and watching the shadows lengthen.

I purchased two stacks of firewood several days ago.  The wood turned out to be pretty green.  To complicate matters, I had no paper to use as starter.  I splintered the wood to create kindling.  I tore the state of New Mexico from our Good Sam's campground book.  New Mexico consisted of about twenty pages.  However, New Mexico wasn't big enough to start a fire.

So, I ripped out Virginia, Washington and Wyoming.  I carefully positioned the paper pages under the kindling and fired it.  Wowzzer!  I had a fire.  Unfortunately, we had no Graham Crackers, marshmallows or chocolate.  We had no s'mores!  But, watching the fire burn down was fun enough for a couple of septuagenarians.  In fact, it was about all the fun we could stand.

This pedestrian entry closes the blog for fall, 2016.  Most of those I write for will be with us for some of the remaining trip.  I will fire up again the week after Christmas as we journey to the Gulf Coast of Texas.  Until then, stay safe.

For now, goodnight.

October 8, 2016. Hanging Out On the Lake.

October 8, 2016.  Hanging Out On the Lake.  Somewhere in the USA within the last year, we bought a 2016 Atlas.  As we were leaving Colorado and entering New Mexico, Annie was trying to figure out where we were.  "Hey," she exclaimed, "there's no New Mexico in this Atlas!"  Upon closer inspection, there were eight pages missing from the center section of the Atlas.  The staples were fitted perfectly in place, so it wasn't a matter of the pages being torn out of the book.  Somehow, that Atlas company had manufactured a book without the 8 pages in the center.  New Mexico, New York, North Carolina and enlargements of urban areas didn't exist in this Atlas.

I've never seen that before.  I remembered buying it at a Walmart, but where and when, I had no idea.  The sales receipt for the purchase perished long ago.  "Well, we'll just return it - "satisfaction guaranteed" and all that rot," I pontificated.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Annie responded.

The first picture above is the service desk at the Osage Beach Walmart.  The intimidating lady behind the desk is Ragenia.  I was a little alarmed when I noticed that the first four letters of her name spelled the word, "Rage."  I could imagine how the conversation might go.  "What, you idiot, you have no receipt!  Out with you before I call Security!"

My fears were completely unwarranted.  "What, no New Mexico!  What kind of Atlas is that.  Here, let me give you your money back, no questions asked."  And, she counted out $8.48 in cash and handed it to me.  "I am so sorry for the inconvenience.  What could be worse that being lost in New Mexico."

She had made a very good point.  I hadn't thought about that.  That Sam Walton, he created quite a business, didn't he.

So, yesterday, we visited the Premium Outlet Stores and spent absolutely nothing.  We walked around for nearly two hours.  There must be nearly 100 stores there, and we couldn't find anything we needed or wanted.  Today was a quiet day in the campground.  Scores of campers arrived yesterday for the three-day weekend.  It was nice to look across the campground tonight and see campfire smoke filtering through the trees.  Kids are riding bicycles as their fathers clean and fillet their daily catch for dinner.  This is such a great country.

We will be here tonight and two more.  We leave for home Tuesday after having lunch with Annie's Aunt Dink and her cousin Jo.  They are from Seattle.  We tried to connect with them in the spring of 2015 as we passed through Seattle but we couldn't make things work out.  We look forward to seeing them Tuesday.  Dink is 88, so she may not be up to making the trip again.

For now, goodnight.

October 6, 2016. A Short, Familiar Trip - Lake of the Ozarks.

October 6, 2016.  A Short, Familiar Trip - Lake of the Ozarks.  This is a different fall for the Farkleys.  We were in Colorado for a week and Santa Fe, NM, for a week.  We returned home Monday, reloaded and rode Harvey, the RV, to Lake of the Ozarks.  I generally blog while traveling with Harvey, so there will be a short series before we return Harvey to his home in the caves, and drive to Florida for a cruise.  We will then spend a week on Amelia Island before meeting the family at Walt Disney World, in Orlando.  The only portion of the various trips which will be reported here is the one we share with Harvey.

We drove through rain to Versailles, MO, home of Lehman's Restaurant.  It is one of our favorites, serving foods which are prepared by Mennonites living in the area.  The servers are all in Mennonite dresses and the restaurant has an emphasis on home cooking.  The nice folks there also make some pretty fantastic pies.  Annie is on some kind of natural foods kick, so we passed on the pies.  Actually, I didn't have room for pie after making a second trip to the buffet line.

Tonight, we are in Lake of the Ozarks State Park, a very nice campground filled with large oaks.  We have seen the lake from the park, but haven't found our way to the water yet.  The Lake of the Ozarks resulted from the construction of Bagnell Dam on the Osage River by Union Electric Company of St. Louis.  Construction on the dam began in 1929.  Upon completion, it created the largest man-made lake in the United States and one of the largest in the world.  Most Missourians have visited the Lake at one time or another.  My favorite black and white television rests in a watery grave here.  It died in 1968 and received its burial at sunrise the same day that Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in 1969.

So, we will be here just a few days.  I'll be back between now and the time we return home to reload again for the drive to Florida.  Goodnight.