September 30 – “630 feet high”

We woke up to some rather sad news yesterday.  Nathan called, and our elder dog Heidi apparently had an encounter with some kind of critter that chewed off half of her tail.  Nathan FaceTimed us so we could see the carnage.    Otherwise she seemed fine, though.  He took her on to the vet, who said she needed surgery to trim off the exposed tendons and muscles.  The plan is for Nathan to run the intensive care unit for the first day.  Then Kel will take her to his house for the long-term rehab until we get home.  Then Nathan called with a report from the surgery.  It wasn’t a critter interloper after all.  She apparently chewed off her own tail because of neuropathy.  Hey.  I have been diagnosed with neuropathy, too.  And there have been days when I was particularly hungry.  Just never have been able to reach my toes.  The rest of the story is that she will be wearing one of those evil cone things for a few weeks, and she has to take the same medication I am taking.  Geriatric dog taking the same meds I take.  Hmm …  Oh, and word has it she might be going by a new nickname.  Stubby?  

Back to our journey.  We passed through one town that had not one but two water towers.  One was marked “Cold” and the other “Hot.”  How do they do that?

Our next National Park was Ulysses S. Grant’s home near St. Louis.  We had to make our way through a pile of traffic.  They were all trying to get to the wild animal theme park next door.  The Ranger told us he has been indentured at this particular park since he was eleven years old.  But he was incredibly passionate about the park.  Best Ranger yet.

Then we made our way to the next National Park site.  To get there we had to weave our way through a really seedy part of town, and ended up parking on a levee about six feet from the River.  It was like parking right next to the beach on Labor Day weekend.  And then we had to disappear underground so we could ride the tram up.  Yep.  We went up to the top of the St. Louis Arch.  And yes, it is a National Park site.

Now that tram ride was a trip in more ways than one.  Five people had to squeeze into a tiny, egg-shaped container (Read here, Chris was less than happy at this wonderful opportunity to display her inherent claustrophobic tendencies) for the four minute ride to the top with the only view being the mechanical operations and the 1,076 steps.  Once at the top (630 feet high, by the way) we were emptied into a small observation room with 80 or 90 of our new best friends.  The room had several long, skinny windows on each side so we could share the view.  And that view was awesome.  I could see the inside of the Cardinals baseball stadium next door.  No game happening, though.  But awesome nonetheless.  Then came the three minute ride to the bottom.  Quicker going down than up.  Yep, I noticed that.  So did Chris.

We salvaged our car off the levee parking lot and headed to our next destination.  And then stopped.  And then started.  And then stopped.  And then started.  Terrible traffic, all vying for the one street that led to where we had to go to get out of town.  It took us about 45 minutes or so, but we finally hit the road headed east once again.

Psalms 103:13-14 says, “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.”

Father, thank you for riding up and down that little tiny space capsule with us.  Amen.

September 29 – “Some Precious Moments ... with wildlife”

50 degrees in Precious Moments-ville.  Yikes.  But take heart.  It warmed all the way up to 70 eventually.  Breakfast at the hotel was a major fail, however.  The eggs and sausage were cold.  I mean really cold.  The waffles (I tried twice) stuck to the griddle, even with a ton of spray on the second attempt.  Ah, well … at least lunch is coming.

Now on the way to the Precious Moments chapel we experienced some glitches with Chris’ internal GPS system.  For some reason it didn’t want to turn right.  It took a second and then third command – “Right.  Right.  No right.”  It certainly corrected itself in time to find that chapel.  It was weird.  There were very few cars in the parking lot.  And as we walked over to the chapel for the tour, we found ourselves utterly alone.  Now that’s a strange feeling in any somber house of worship – to be alone with the Lord.  It was accentuated here because of the whole commercialized nature of the situation.  Two other couples eventually joined us, though, so we enjoyed the experience with our tiny group.  Come to find out, the group scheduled after us was a Diamond Tours group of 70 or 80 senior citizens from Ohio.  Glad we were there to open the place up.  After the tour we went to the gift shop.  And Chris stayed in there for … well, I don’t know how long.  But I do know she saw every item in there … twice. 

Next we returned to National Park mode and ended up in Diamond, Missouri.  George Washington Carver’s adopted Dad who used to be his slave master lived there.  We got our parks stamp and even did the little one mile hike they had set up.  But Chris said it didn’t count as a hike because I didn’t use my walking stick.  That and the path we started one was made of that tartan stuff they use for track courses in stadiums (That caused me to wonder about the whole hike thing, myself).  But it soon returned to gravel, so I’m holding out for hike all the way.

Now before our next stop, I have to interject this quick anecdote.  At one point in our travels Chris spotted a deer.  I was driving, so she “politely requested” that I stop the car so she could take a picture.  She whipped out that camera and aimed it, but apparently couldn’t get a good shot, so she slowly opened the door.  Meanwhile, it became apparent that the deer wasn’t so afraid of the huge metallic object advancing upon her.  So I began slowly inching the car forward.  So there we were, Chris perilously hanging out the now-moving, open car door, snapping pictures like a wildlife correspondent for National Geographic.  It was quite the thrilling scene.

So next.  On to the Wilson’s Creek battlefield somewhere near Springfield.  We passed up several unique opportunities on the way.  Things like the Uppydowny.org Caverns.  Wish I could have seen them.  They sounded so … uppy downy.  We did make a stop in Ozarkland, though.  Had to.  See, every billboard for miles insisted.  And as we entered the store, a guy coming out (from East Texas, by the way) told us he comes twice a year, and then the killer … this place has the best fudge ever.  How could we not try some?  He was right.  And on top of that, they sold Big Metal Chickens.  They were pretty proud of their Big Metal Chickens, though.  So I got a Small Fluffy one instead.  And it makes a highly obnoxious crowing sound.  Lovely.  Named him Barkley.

After that stop we had to detour because the entire freeway was shut down.  Not a problem for us.  We headed into the backwoods of Missouri with reckless abandon.  Our journey included several towns like Wentworth – population 126.  We finally arrived at our National Park destination, and who should join us but Molly Mouse.  She and Barkley thoroughly enjoyed the wide open spaces of the battlefield.  We saw and took pictures (close to a million, I’m sure) of the four deer we saw.  I also saw a fox, but he was running away at the time.  Oh, and we did some more hiking.  Yes.  I used my stick, so it was official hiking. 

Upon leaving the park site we took off for … somewhere else.  I was beginning to wonder where when we drove through Cuba.  Saw a field of alpacas there, too.  But that was soon in our rear view mirror as we sought out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where …

Psalms 103:12 says, “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

Father, thank you for the wildlife experiences.  Nothing quite as exciting as the surprise when we see another of your special creatures.  Amen.

September 28 – “A walk, a hike and some history”

Well, we woke up in a place called Fort Smith with the temperature at 54 degrees.  Now, I don’t mean the temp in our hotel room.  That’s what it was outside.  I understand they have a word for it up here.  Fall.  Very odd.  And to top it off, both of us were really sore in the calf muscles.  That would be our downhill ache-ers. 

We went over to the historical Fort site first.  And lots of history there was.  Trail of Tears, Civil War, western settlers, all passed through the fort.  Chris and I used this cool opportunity to take a long, romantic walk alongside the Arkansas River.  It was not a hike, though.  Just a walk.

Across the street from the fort was the Fort Smith Historical Museum.  It amounted to a wildly random collection of … stuff … from many different periods of history.  Old World War uniforms, an old, horse-drawn fire engine, an old printing press, an old Model T Ford, an old … well, the list goes on and on.  The display wasn’t all that organized, and they were still working in a lots of areas.  It was like walking around at a huge, semi-organized garage sale.  Fascinating.

Speaking of the Civil War, next we headed to the Pea Ridge Battlefield site.  On the way we casually slipped off the Interstate and got on one of those motorcycle special, wind-y roads.  It was not as crazy as the Devil’s Tail one we did over in Tennessee, or wherever that one was, but there were a lot of motorcycles.  In Rogers, Arkansas, amongst the motorcycle, we saw a gigantic tiger head (It was advertising that law firm that targets motorcyclists who have been involved in wrecks with 18-wheelers) and yet another huge metal chicken.  I got a picture this time.

So the Pea Ridge battlefield.  It was set up kind of like Gettysburg and Vicksburg.  A self-guided tour by car over acres and acres of land with Civil War era fences and cannons strewn about.  We did take one short hike to a viewing area.  Chris said it was officially a hike, no matter how short.  Why?  Because now I have a walking stick.  Yep… Just like Moses.

We left there and took some more back roads to the nearest hotel to our next national park site in Diamond, Missouri.  The roads were wild and crazy and curvy and … mountain-y.  I was driving this time, so Chris wouldn’t get out of control excited like she did on the Devil’s Tail and drive too fast.  She did “help” me on occasion, though.  Always appreciate the assistance. 

As we pulled into our hotel, what should be printed on the bottom of the hotel sign?  Ready for this one?  “Precious Moments Hotel.”  Wait.  What?  Come to find out, we are just a mile or so from the Precious Moments chapel and museum.  Guess how we’ll be starting our day?

But first we had to eat.  We chose some local color.  Iggy’s Diner.  Shiny silver on the outside.  Inside felt like the 1950’s.  Photos of Elvis on the walls.  Period music playing (Songs that we actually recognized).  Red booths.  Soda fountain.  Chicken fried steak and sweet tea and rocky road pie.  Decadent.  But remember, we did hike earlier …

Psalms 103:11 says, “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him.”

Father, thank you for the opportunity to see some history in several different forms.  Amen.

September 27 – “Hiking Day”

Hiking Day.  We started this one early.  Since we already had the general lay of the land from Ranger Rick the day before (That wasn’t his real name, I don’t think.  But it could have been.  He kind of looked like a chipmunk), we were on the trail by 9 a.m.  We’ll, once we found the trail.  We made our way onto something called the Grand Promenade.  It’s a really wide, man-made trail that leads … I don’t know where it leads, but the other trails all bounce off of it, so we were able to locate the Dead Chief Trail.  Yep.  Dead Chief.  I didn’t even want to know where it got its name.  I’m pretty sure there was an Indian chief and his wife who were lost forever on the mountain.  How do I know?  Well, I think we saw them.  He was walking with a large stick and she followed closely at his side.  Oh, they were camouflaged in modern-day clothing, but I think it was them.  The trail they came from joined ours, and they passed us with ease, never to be seen again.  Kind of eerie.  OK, maybe it was more of a testament to how slow we were walking.  The higher we got, the cooler the weather became.  Oh, and then it started raining.  Hiking in the rain at the top of a mountain.  That counts as romantic, right? 

We ended up on the toughest trail.  And even when we decided to seek out the Wimp Hike alternative called The ShortCut Trail (really), we had to hike uphill for another half hour or so to find it.  We finally made it back to the Grand Promenade after three hours of being trapped on a tiny trail to “nowhere near sea level” … in either direction.  We went right to one of the bathhouses and tried to get reservations for one of their famous foot and head massages.  Sadly, the next available one wasn’t until 3:30.  We wanted to be back on the road by then.  So we loaded up our backpack, changed shoes, and headed for Little Rock.

There is a National Park site in Little Rock.  The visitor’s center is across the street from the school where Little Rock was first integrated.  We got our stamp and talked to the Ranger for a while.  He was quite entertaining.  Next it was on to Fort Smith.

Chris took over driving again on this leg (Yes, the old man drove from Hot Springs to Little Rock, thank you very much).  She pointed out the exit to Toad Suck.  Always wanted to stop there.  A strange message popped up on her phone, so I checked it for her.  In case you missed it, the word of the day yesterday was “graupel.”  A graupel is a small particle of snow with a fragile crust of ice, essentially soft hail.  Your welcome. 

Speaking of the weather, it started raining on our drive out of Little Rock.  Intermittent, but nothing Chris couldn’t handle.  I kept up with the Astros loss on my MLB phone app.  One other thing, though.  The temperature kept dropping.  By the time we arrived in Fort Smith it was 64 degrees.  Brrrrr. 

Psalms 103:8 says, “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.”

Father, thank you for the experience of that hike.  It was tough, but it felt good to have made it.  Amen.

September 26 – “Purple … Purple … Purple”

Just remembered a disconcerting event from the other day when we were at Bill Clinton’s grandma’s house.  One of the ladies in our tour group was a fairly young twenty-something.  As we meandered through the house she noticed a piece of furniture in one corner that resembled a large box on the floor.  Peering more closely she simply couldn’t make sense of the tiny screen or the printed numbers or the set of knobs protruding from the screen’s sides.  I watched her as her face grew more and more puzzled.  Finally she had to ask, “What is that?”  Awesome.  The tour guide handled her answer professionally and Park Ranger-y.  “It’s a radio.  It’s like an old-fashioned TV.”  There you go.

Now.  Having decided to extend our stay in Hot Springs one more day, we set out on day one’s adventure.  Bathhouse Row.  It’s a collection of seven or eight old bathhouses where people have been coming for years to bathe in the hot spring water (Hmm.  Imagine that.  Might make a good name for the town, don’t you think?).  My particular interest?  Hot Springs was the Spring Training location for many years for quite a few of the old-timer baseball greats, including Babe Ruth.  In fact, the whole town has photos and plaques of the old superstars.  So, I wanted to check out where those fellas relaxed and did their best to sweat the alcohol out of their systems.  As it turned out, the visitors’ center was in one of them, and they provided a full on tour of the restored building.  Chris’ favorite of the tour were those sweat tanks where you sit down and only your head sticks out the top.  Well, actually she cringed at the very sight of them. 

Down the street I made a new friend.  One of the other bathhouses was now the gift shop for the national park.  And who should I find waiting for me there?  Mokey Bear.  That’s without the “S,” mind you.  (He always has to add that since he joined the Park Ranger service.  Can’t risk confusion with that other guy).  One of the other bathhouses is now a brewery and another is a bed and breakfast, I think.  But a few of them still operate.  My goal today is to make it to one of them for a foot and head massage (Yep.  Chris looked it up.  That’s one of the deals they offer).  So outside Mokey Bear’s stomping grounds was an actual water fountain with water flowing straight from the underground spring.  The smart-aleck Park Ranger we spoke to said that I would bravely touch the water first, wince at how hot it was, then do my best to trick Chris into trying it as well.  Let me just say … he wasn’t wrong.  That water was hot.  Beyond bathtub hot.  We learned that back in the day they had to mix it with cold water before they could use it in the bathhouses.  Ouch.

Next we walked over to the Gangster Museum.  Not exactly what we expected.  Kind of reminded us of the Bonnie and Clyde Museum we found on an earlier excursion, only not as blood and guts-y.  Several full-sized statues of Al Capone did grace the premises, though.  Oh, and the tour was long.  Way too long.  I think the old guy leading it might have personally known the mobsters he was telling us about.  My favorite was the baseball room, with old photos of many of the hall of famers who had come to the area back in the day.  The focal point of the room was a bigger than life-size statue of Babe Ruth calling his shot.  Chris made me leave the room with the rest of the tour group before I finished checking out all the photos, but she let me buy a book they had with nothing but old photos of baseball players enjoying Spring Training here.

Next was lunch at BubbaLu’s.  Good chicken salad sandwich.  Mine was grilled on something called panatinni or panaweeny or padawandeeny bread.  Can’t remember what they called it, but it tasted good.  And they had lots of baseball pictures on the walls.  Nice touch.

After lunch we headed to Toussad’s Wax Museum.  I went to the original one of those back in the early 70’s when I went through London after a study tour of the Holy Land.  This one was not as extensive, but the work was pretty close to right on.  The best part was the scary room.  They warned young children not to go in, and even had a bypass option.  It was filled with Frankenstein-esque.  Zombie-type figures.  My favorite was the huge wolf attacking from the center of the room right at you.  As we turned the corner after that, we heard several very loud retorts exploding through the hallway.  I didn’t expect sound effects, but they would have been much more effective while we were in the scary room rather than the Disney princess room.  Come to find out a guy was doing some carpentry work in the hallway just around the corner.  I shared with his my idea about using the loud noises in the scary room.  He said he has scared a few teenage girls when he walked through that exhibit to do some work.  One even asked him if he was wax.  He told her, “Yes, but at 9:00 I turn real.”  I like that guy.

We tried to go see the Oddities Museum.  They had pictures of a two-headed cow and tales of a two-headed turtle graced their website.  Sadly, you had to buy a ticket to some magic show to get in.  And it was only open later that night.  Guess I’ll have to search for oddities elsewhere.

Next we drove to the site where Babe Ruth played in an exhibition game and hit a 550 foot home run (One local told us it was 550 yards.  Hmm.  1650 feet.  Now that would be a long shot).  Apparently the stadium was next door to an alligator farm, and he hit the ball out of the stadium and into one of the alligator pits.  Impressive.

Not quite as impressive as The Babe, but still extraordinary, was the view from the Mountain Tower.   Atop one of the larger hills in the area was built an even taller observing platform.  Beautiful views of the city and the surrounding region.  And in their gift shop, who should I meet but Alcie, another new friend.  He’s a bear named after a certain famous gangster who used to frequent these parts (That guy went by Al C., so don’t get confused).  Alcie is dressed to go to the bathhouses for a neck and foot rub and invited me to join him.  I don’t have a cool bathrobe like he does, but I sure am leaning toward that spa treatment. 

Next went on a little driving tour of West Mountain.  There were a few good views from there.  The only real excitement was when Chris noticed what looked like smoke.  I got out the binoculars and gazed at it for a while.  It was definitely a fire, but it was right in the middle of the trees, and looked to be carefully contained.  I’ll trust that the local FD handled it. 

We closed out our day with a dinner trip to a place called The Purple Cow.  Strange place.  All the seats were … purple.  Their logo was a cow that was white and … purple.  And then came the most disconcerting thing of all.  They served a vanilla milkshake that was … purple.  That is just wrong.  And of course Chris ordered one.  Turned her tongue … purple.  Oh, and get this.  Chris was wearing a beautiful blouse … purple.  Wrong.  Just wrong.

But the Astros did win.  And the Athletics lost, so the ‘Stros win the division.  Great end to the day. 

Psalms 103:2-5 says, “Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits —  who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.”

Father, thanks for holding off the rain until we made it back to the hotel last night.  Amen.

September 25 – “Arkansas One”

Well, here’s the hodgepodge of random and glorious sites we saw yesterday.  It was almost an overload.  Hold onto your hats …

Oh, but first, yesterday when I asked for meal suggestions in Marshall, we received a message from a college era friend who lives in Longview.  Sadly, we were heading the opposite direction. 

Mildred’s.  I’m not really sure what the purpose was, but the building looked really rustic and very cool.

Not one, but four, six-foot-tall gigantic metal chickens.  How can that not be awe-inspiring?

T-Bone Walker Day was coming in Linden, Texas.  We saw the billboard.

Here’s a grand favorite: Mr. Ed’s Trade Center.  Didn’t see the horse anywhere, though.  Or Wilbur.  Don’t understand the appeal of this one?  You’re too young.

By Faith Automotive.  Aren’t they all, really?

Wait.  Four more of those giant chickens.

Lanark.  Nope.  Nothing there.  At all.  It was just my favorite city name on the map for the day.

Speaking of city names, we passed through Washington and Nashville.  Told you Chris drives fast.

The fog and sun played a game of tug of war as we approached Domino, Texas.  The result was some pretty images of fog and brightness against a horde of trees and hills.

Chris saw some red flowers that fascinated her enough to stop in someone’s yard and take a picture.  We haven’t looked them up in the red flower database yet.  More to come on that one, I suppose.

Ozan.  Population 81.  Yep.  A real city.  Sounds like someone who can fix your foundation.  Check with Nolan Ryan.  Don’t get it?  You need to watch some more TV commercials.

Hope.  Finally.  We crossed into Arkansas and went to our first National Park site thing.  Where were we?  President Bill Clinton’s grandmother’s old house.  It’s where he lived as a baby.  We met some nice ladies from Longview there.

Next stop?  Murfreesboro, home of the Crater of Diamonds State Park.  No, it wasn’t a scheduled stop, but we were right there, and who can refuse a field of diamonds?  Next time … me.  See, it has been raining in Arkansas, a lot.  But everyone we talked to said after it rains is the best time to search for diamonds (Oh, did I mention?  The park is a huge 37 acre plowed field of mud.  And you too – yes, you – can stomp around in the mud and muck searching for that elusive diamond in the rough).  OK, I’ll hasten to say … no, we found no diamonds.  Just jasper and volcanic rock (The whole field is a gigantic volcano, just waiting to erupt.  Maybe).  Oh, but I did make a new friend – one who would choose to join us on the rest of our journey.  His name is Cyrus Scorpezius, a very large, stuffed scorpion.  An incredibly rare species, I might add.

One more giant chicken.

Oh, and in the field nearby, a whole herd of real chickens.  Or flock.  Or gaggle.  A bunch of real chickens.

Whoosh.  Another giant metal chicken.

Look.  Another giant chicken.  This one was painted carefully to resemble the real thing, but I was able to expertly discern that the six-foot-tall marvel was in fact a hoax, and not a real, breathing chicken at all.

Siri pulled her first prank of the trip on Chris.  As we got to Hot Springs, we were searching for the Visitor’s Center of the Hot Springs National Park.  Siri had very specific commands as to how to arrive … as usual.  Everything seemed normal.  Until we realized we were on a wild goose chase up in the hills in the middle of the National Forest with no humanity in sight anywhere.  And just as we made that realization, Siri declared, “You have arrived at your destination.”  That, my friends, it the Siri way of saying, “Gotcha.”  Sure enough, we put in the request a second time, and she had us backtrack to the actual center.  She even led us to our hotel with no glitches.  Good one, Siri.  You make our trips so much fun.  But be careful.  Chris wasn’t exactly charmed.

Meanwhile we got a message from some Colorado friends who saw one of my FaceBook travel tips posts.  Come to find out, they are now Hot Springs friends.  Bruce and Becky had us over for a great dinner of burgers and baked beans and lemon meringue pie (Or however you spell it).  Good stuff.

Psalms 103:1 says, “Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.”

Father, thanks for the hospitality offers from Rick and Blessed and Bruce and Becky.  Bless them for their openness.  Amen.

September 24 – “A word of warning”

It is always a great day at church when we start the day off with a baptism.  And pretty much the whole group that was in worship joined us on the beach for the baptism.  That would be in the neighborhood of 60 people.  I love that Seaside.  And being near the beach is not so bad either.

And now.  The vacation extravaganza has begun.  We left after church.  Well, after church and after some last minute loose ends that we had to tie up before we left.  But we are officially on the road.  To where?  Ah, yes.  That is, indeed , the question, is it not?  I answered it earlier today this way … “Roughly northeast.  Right now.” 

Random sightings …

“Eat.  Fuel.  Flush.  Donut Shoppe.”  All in the same place.  Same sign.  That about covers it, wouldn’t you say?

Moscow.  Corinth.  Hmm.  That’s Russia and Greece.  Chris drives really fast.

Panola College.  I thought that was a sandwich shoppe.

Irons Bayou.  One of hundreds of bayous.  I just happened to remember this name.

Papa and Nina’s Farm.  We were in the middle of nowhere.  A great short cut, you know?  Cows everywhere.  Trees.  Lots of trees.  A dog here and there.  But no people.  I guess we just missed Papa and Nina.

We hit some rain just outside of Marshall, Texas.  Not much rain.  Just enough to wash the bugs off the windshield.  Strangely enough, that’s exactly how much Chris asked for. 

We checked into our hotel in Marshall.  You know how you always take advantage of the situation where you don’t have to pay the electric bill, so you crank the AC down as low as you can stand it and crawl directly into bed?  Well, this place was so far ahead of us.  When we entered the room the AC was set on 60 degrees.  And believe me, it worked.  We had to turn it up and leave for some supper to let the room warm up a bit. 

Speaking of supper, we ended up at Chili’s.  A word of warning.  The potato soup was pretty good, but when they brought the ticket Chris noticed something fishy.  We asked to see the detail receipt, and they had charged us for “Table entertainment.”  Hey, all we did at that table was talk to each other, and I didn’t charge Chris near what was listed on the receipt.  They had to redo the whole thing.  Watch your receipt when there are table entertainment screens available.  Someone may have been destroying little aliens before you got there. 

Tomorrow we continue.  Generally speaking, northward.  Maybe a little eastward as well.  More to come.

Psalms 102:18 says, “Let this be written for a future generation, that a people not yet created may praise the Lord”

Father, thank you for Drake and his baptism.  Thank you for keeping us safe on this first leg of our trip.  Please join us for the journey.  Amen.

September 23 – “a top ten most eerie …”

Well, I have officially experienced a true top ten most eerie event in my life.  It all started when I went to the hospital.  Oh, not for me.  I was informed that one of our Seasiders had been admitted, so I went out to see him and pray with him. 

Now the first thing that should have been a clue happened before I ever left my car.  Free parking.  That’s right.  The gate was locked in the up position.  No one answered the call button.  So I hesitantly entered and parked, wary of being hunted down by hospital security.  But none came.  I saw only a few only confused and disoriented parkers.  Strange.

I already had the room number texted to me by the one who informed me of the hospitalization.  Excellent.  That saved me a trip to the information desk.  All I had to do was find John Sealy Room 914.  Easy, right?  Well …

My journey started as I made my way to the patient relations office.  My plan was to renew my pastoral certifications while on site.  But no one was there.  In fact, no one was in any of the offices I was passing.  No one.  Undeterred, I pressed on.  After all, I have been in this hospital hundreds of times over the years.  And I could renew those authorizations another time.  It would be a long walk.  The main entry now leads into the sister hospital, Jennie Sealy.  But the rain had prevented our walk in the morning anyway, so I was ready.  Or so I thought.

I made my way to an appropriately marked bank of elevators, although they seemed to be somewhat displaced from the last time I was there.  I entered and pressed the floor button.  Thankfully the elevator worked perfectly and I found myself on the ninth floor.  All things pediatrics.  Thank couldn’t be right.  The guy I was looking for was at least my age.  I strolled around that floor for a while, and it didn’t take long to realize that I was the only one there.  Really.  The only one.  No one in any offices.  No one in the halls.  I entered doors that I had always assumed were locked up tight, but still found no one.  Curious now, I returned to the elevators.  Well, to some elevators.  These were not the ones I came up on.  I went down to the first floor to get my bearings, forgetting momentarily that the second floor is actually the first floor.  It mattered not.  There was no one in the basement, either.  I found some more elevators.  Back up to floor two.  No one.  More elevators.  Up to floor three for a quick look-see.  No one there, either.  I tried a stairwell.  Nope.  Same results through those doors.  Finally, after yet another harrowing stroll through a deserted floor, the elevator doors opened to a foyer that I recognized.  The front desk.  And one couple, obviously not on staff, walked about, as uncertain as was I.  I went to the front desk and cautiously lifted the red phone.  A cheery voice greeted me.  How eerie is that?  I asked as to the whereabouts of my patient, and the voice told me, “Oh, he is in Jennie Sealy Hospital, Room 914.”  Ah.  JENNIE Sealy, not John.  Right where I entered the complex in the first place.  Right next door.  But how do I get there from here?  More than ever determined now, I struck out for the return trip.  Couldn’t be any worse than this first leg, could it?  Umm …

Right away I found signs point me in the right direction.  Strangely, however, the signs pointed me right to the hospital cafeteria.  OK.  “I guess the hallway picks up on the other side,” I thought.  There were people in the cafeteria.  Nameless faces who were shell-shocked with worry about loved ones or who were working through their shift so they could get home and watch the Astros on TV.  None spoke except when absolutely, and then only in hushed tones.  I hurried past, and into the hallway on the “Other Side.”  I followed the first arrow, picking up my pace, now eager to see James.  And that arrow led me to … nothing.  A long, empty corridor with blacked out windows on one side and empty walls of nothing on the other.  No doors. No people.  I decided to make the most of the adventure and pressed on.  Two turns and two empty corridors later, things began to get … eerie.  There.  I officially used the word.  Have you ever seen the movies where there are long white corridors … with those overhead lights … and one of them isn’t installed properly, so it keeps flickering on and off, on and off?  I was trapped in that movie, in that very hallway.  Not a sign of human beings in any direction.  Truly the stuff nightmares are made of.  The adventure was rapidly becoming, well, less fun.  My knee was aching.  My ankle was even sore from the yard work we did the other day.  But I kept going.  Limping this way and that, a turn here, an elevator ride there.  Until finally, to my amazement, I stumbled upon a familiar corridor.  I slowly walked that direction.  Pictures began to appear on the walls.  The air conditioning got noticeable colder.  And suddenly … a person.  A real human being.  Or as real as a medical student can be.  I didn’t have the nerve to ask if I could pinch him right then to see if he would react.  I just kept walking.  And finally, there it was.  The huge, brand new foyer of the JENNIE Sealy Hospital. 

Taking a deep breath I made my way to the elevators and punched in floor nine.  I eased around the loop of rooms until I came to 914.  And to my great relief, there was James, with his daughter and granddaughter.  We talked for a while and prayed before I left.  I shared the down elevator with a lady who was being released.  She made a comment about several floors being missing from the buttons.  In the spirit of the moment I asked whether anyone knew for sure if there was a thirteenth floor.  Hey, it’s almost October.  And after my recent experience, I wouldn’t discount anything.  Once I reached the ground floor again, I got to my car as fast as I could.  See, I still wasn’t convinced about this whole free parking thing.  I did manage to escape, however.  So you tell me … top ten, or no?

Psalms 102:15 says, “The nations will fear the name of the Lord, all the kings of the earth will revere your glory.”

Father thank you for the doctors taking care of James.  Give them wisdom to know what steps to take next in his care.  Amen.

September 22 – “The List”

OK, I suppose I will once again respond to popular demand.  Here is The List of Animal Travel Buddies.  We must establish their prior presence in the fold before embarking on another rescue mission. 

(2015)

Douglas, the Camel (He’s from Vicksburg.  A long ago and far away trip)

(2018)

Nonay, the sloth (Nonay is short for No Name, the Valentine’s Day gift from Chris that started it all)

Mammie, the girl sloth (She found us at the Mammoth National Park in Waco.  She was the only one of her kind on the rack)

Javi, the javalina (He came from the Ft. Davis/McDonald Observatory run)

Carlo, the coyote (We saw his family all over Big Bend)

Cray-ani, the deer (Her family walked right in front of the car in a Big Bend hotel parking lot.  The name is short for Crazy Animal)

Rufus, the Roadrunner (We found Rufus at Mission San Jose in San Antonio, but we had an up close and personal encounter with his cousin in Big Bend)

Bart Bison, the buffalo (We saw Bartholomew just outside the LBJ Ranch)

Bo, the longhorn (Bo was inside the LBJ ranch.  His full name is Little Bovine Johnson)

Beeg, the Beagle (Beeg was found inside the LBJ ranch, too.  His name is Little Beagle Johnson, but who wants to be called all that?)

Pablo Pic-Possum (Pablo came from the Big Thicket region of Texas)

Argyle Archimedes Alligator (A³ is kind of presumptuous, isn’t he?  Well, he’s from a plantation in the swamps of Louisiana)

Darryl Duck (Darryl is from Riverbend campground.  Not sure why he is the camp mascot.  We heard his name was almost changed to Joshua Duck after a certain youth pastor and his golf cart had an encounter with the lake)

Tootie Turtle, the baby dinosaur (Toots is from the Dinosaur State Park in Glen Rose.  Looks a lot like a turtle, a prehistoric one, of course.  She’s the only travel animal - other than Nonay and Buc-ee –chosen by Chris on our journeys)

Orville Ostrich (He came from the Fossil Rim Wildlife Preserve that we traversed with Cailyn)

Gary Giraffe (Gary is pronounced “szhary.”  Just use the same “g” as you use in his last name.  He’s from Fossil Rim, too)

Buc-ee Beaver (I’m pretty sure Buc-ee hails from Texas City, but he has relatives all over the place.  Rumor has it he hitched a ride with a trucker from somewhere in Canada.  Chris got me this guy for my birthday.  I think maybe she was hoping to end the travel animal collection madness in the same way it began.  Nope)

Darryl Dinosaur (Not sure if he is related to Darryl Duck.  They come from the same general area – the back hills near Glen Rose, so you never know.  He was a gift from the Seasiders who went to see The Promise.  Chris and I fell sick and had to stay behind in Waco)

There you have it.  Oh, I have other animals in the menagerie at the house, but they are there for other purposes, like explaining sacrifices and representing the perfect lamb and showing what it’s like to be a zebra or an otter or a rat.  Sigh.  Perhaps one day a great-grandchild will appreciate what the old man has accumulated in a realm other than baseball card-dom.

Psalms 102:12 says, “But you, O Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.”

Father, thank you for the memory each one of the animals evokes.  Amen.

September 21 – “Accomplishments”

We got the yard mowed.  Accomplishment number one.  Sounds easy, doesn’t it?  Let me hasten to add then, that this momentous event occurred after two solid weeks of rain around here.  There was a thick layer of grass growing out of grass surrounding weeds hiding colonies of mosquitoes waiting to pounce and suck blood in an instant.  I gotta say, there were not many steps recorded on my step counter app, but it definitely counts as a strength building day for the knee.  My leg was, and is, sore all the way down into my ankle and foot.  I feel pretty good otherwise.  Maybe a day off today …

I connected with the Humphries family up in Alaska again.  Accomplishment number two.  We have been praying for them every Sunday at church, so I reached out to ask for some specific prayer requests for the family and for the ministry.  You might add them to your prayer list as well.  It’s tough living in that cold, barren wasteland of the north, even during the season when it is beautiful.

The LaMarque cousins came over for a visit yesterday.  It was quite a calm invasion.  After lunch (pizza, of course), Jachin and Micah played a game of Monopoly on the Wii.  My first time to see that one.  Irritatingly captivating.  Josiah played some games on his iPad.  Noa began a sewing project with Nana.  That just left the two younger ones.  Ezra took a nap.  It may or may not be true that I took a nap as well.  No comment.  Well, other than … Accomplishment number three. 

In anticipation of our excursion coming up on Sunday, I went through my stuffed animal buddies.  Accomplishment number four.  Had to make sure I had each of their names and birthplaces recorded for posterity.  They have grown into quite an entourage.  I can’t wait to see if any cousins emerge on our road trip. 

Psalms 101:1 says, “I will sing of your love and justice; to you, O Lord, I will sing praise.”

Father, be with Kenny and Lauren Humphries and their kiddos.  Give them encouragement every day in little ways as well as some mighty ones.  Amen.