Hello for Columbia, Missouri. I won't go into the MissurA thing again right now.
I am about tired (pronounced tarred) of being wet. The last few days of Raleighwood's weather was Tropical Storm Andrea which made life really, really wet. Even with raingear I was wet for 3 straight days. The last couple days haven't been much different with heavy bands of rain then momentary sunlight then more heavy rain. You get the picture. Boo hoo water the flowers. I can't stand myself when I whine.
We moored The Loveboat somewhere in Missouri for lunch at a China Garden Restaurant. Does every Chinese Restaurant need to be called China Garden? Sort of seems that way to me. But what do I know? After spending another 500 miles in The Love Boat, we dropped anchor for the night in Columbia, Missouri. Now I bet you think I am going to poke fun at the people in the campground? Come on. Admit it. Well I'm not. Well maybe a little. After we checked into the campground we went for a walk on a road next to the campground that went to the county fairgrounds (no biggie) and to the town's "Softball Complex". I always thought softball wasn't complicated at all, but I guess it is in Columbia. This "complex" had several really nice ball fields with lights, buildings, and lots of people playing on their complex fields. We walked around and decided to stop and watch a game with middle and junior high school kids. I forgot to mention that The Puppies (Monty and Riley) were along on our walk. We sat on some empty bleachers save a woman and man that were on opposite ends and about 4 feet from the ground. The bleachers were about 25 feet in length. Riley being Riley and always in need of attention decided he would explore as far as his leash allowed hunting for new sources of attention. Riley went up to the man but the man wasn't interested. So he went up to the woman but was only able to get within 5 or so feet of her. The woman saw Riley and jumped up and moved to the bleachers beside ours to get away from him. I hoped she doesn't do that when she has dinner at someone's house, and they put brussels sprouts on her plate. Geez Louise. I think she hurt Riley's feelings acting like Riley was a pit bull or Rottweiler. I surmised she was a communist. I can tell. So we left a few minutes later, but I made sure Riley got to walk past her. Communistic brussel sprout hopper.
I forgot to mention some stuff about Franfort, KY. The road leading into the Frankfort campground had signs that said, "All vehicles must have a licensed operator and NO JOY RIDING" and "No electronic vehicles allowed". Now the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy was intrigued as to what joy riding entailed and what in the world was an electronic vehicle. A depressed person wrote those signs. I guess the signs would mean if you are riding to work, you weren't enjoying yourself so that would qualify. If you were riding to the dentist you certainly wouldn't be enjoying yourself and would likewise qualify. BUT, if you were riding to pick up your $10 million dollars of lottery winnings you would be guilty of JOY RIDING punishable by having to stay another night at the campground. Now the electronic vehicle thing got me to thinking. I envisioned a big transistor with wheels on it making beeping sounds like the Dalek in the Dr. Who series. The epitome of troubles would be if you were riding a Dalek and going to pick up your lottery winnings, then you would be damned to Hell and would need to spend eternity in Frankfort. I decided I wouldn't joy ride in that park.
Campgrounds are always full of signs and the Frankfort campground had another intriguing sign that made me go HMMMM. I should explain a little about the campground; it had a creek beside it.The creek was not bubbling, frolicking, or gently traveling. It was big, ugly, and looked like a place water moccasins would have family reunions. This creek was bounded on the campground side with very high earthen wall to hinder, I guess, the occasional flooding of the campground. Besides the creek there wasn't any other water nearby especially not a lake. Just a big creek mind you. That being said a person had a sign on his small travel trailer that stated, "Jim's House At The Lake". Lake Boy Jim must have thought I was "simple" or something because I stopped and stared at his sign. Bouncing around inside my brain were thoughts of needing more coffee, wanting to take a nap, if Riley was going to poop in Lake Boy Jim's Yard at The Lake, and that Lake Boy Jim wasn't too bright. Lake Boy Jim wasn't at any lake, and he sure wasn't in a house. I surmised that Lake Boy Jim had aspired his entire life to have a house at the lake, and he wasn't going to let a few huge details destroy his delusions of grandeur. I'll betcha I know who Lake Boy voted for in the last delusional election. Maybe Lake Boy is damned and will spend eternity in the campground with complex softballs striking his lake house day and night.
Tomorrow is Lincoln, Nebraska. We have not been to Kansas, Iowa, and Nebraska. No I have not had delusional expectations or anything about those states. We shall see what unfolds tomorrow.
Bye for now.
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