Sweet Home Welch

It is good to be home. Leaving Memphis early this morning was a good strategy. I arrived in Welch about dinner time (for the uninitiated, dinner time is noon while supper time is around 6 pm, although The Old Goat thinks supper should be served no later than 4 pm, and whines like a sick puppy when it is not). I honked the horn when I passed The Old Goat's house. Within minutes, he was in his car and driving to welcome me home. Naturally, as I set up the Airstream, he plundered through it as if on an inspection tour. Fortunately, I dug out the gift I bought him -- a silver tipped bolo tie with an exquisite holder also of silver. He seemed pleased. I bought it Durango and while driving across Arkansas and Mississippi, fought off boredom by wondering where I had put it.

Couple of hours later, Tinker came home from his second job at Home Depot. He did his inspection of the trailer and truck and pronounced both to be satisfactory. By that time, The Old Goat was off to see one of his many lady-friends (he has more energy and enthusiasm than a rabbit). Tinker and I had a couple of beers and talked trailers, and travels, and the West. I bought him a money clip with embedded turquoise. He, too, seemed pleased. Even though Tinker and I are in our late 50s, neither of us drink in The Old Goat's presence. The blessed St. Rebecca and The Old Goat were steadfastly opposed to demon rum, in any form. Out of respect for them, Tinker and I keep our beer swilling private. Years ago, when we were kids, we hide our beer stash in the chimney of a house that burned down, across the dirt road from where my land is now. Then, when we drank a beer on Saturday night, we'd both chew pine needles to freshen our breath. Sounds silly, but neither of us wanted to give the folks heart-burn about something like beer drinking.

Tinker's garden has withered from lack of rain. He has a few tomatoes, some squash. The Old Goat told me that it had rained once since I left. I don't think my travel plans had anything to do with the weather patterns. The bush-hogging I did before leaving needs to be done again. The sunflowers I planted before leaving are about a foot high. They need weeding; another thing for the "to do" list tomorrow.

There is a rodeo in Roanoke this Friday. And, on Saturday, one of my uncles his hosting a BBQ at his house. There will be plenty of good food and lots of new people to meet.

It is good to be home.