Lost in Waco

 

Thanksgiving fifteen years ago at my brother's ranch.
All those babies are teenagers now, and we are
so many we can rarely be all together. 

Today was a travel day, though I don’t think any of us expected it to be as long as it was. Jordan and I left Fort Worth about ten-thirty and sailed along until just outside Waco when we ran into a huge traffic jam. Colin called and directed us to exit 35W and take the Waco loop to 84, then go south on 84. We did but we could not find the restaurant where we were to meet—the Health Camp, which is anything but healthy. Trying desperately to figure out where we were, Jordan gave me a geat tour of a less than desirable part of Waco. I know—or have heard—that city has lovely homes somewhere, but I’ll be darned if I’ve ever seen them. Today we saw what must be their version of Shanty Town. My thoughts about Waco did not improve.

Meanwhile Jordan was getting increasingly upset, and Colin was saying if you’ll go here, there or somewhere, I can guide you. Finally he said to go to the Loop and 84 and find a place. They would meet us. So there we were at a Subway. I don’t mean to sound negative but that’s not my favorite food either.  Colin and granddaughter Morgan did indeed find us. They opted for the Whataburger next door, and I think Colin is still longing for the greasy burger from the Health Camp. Finally, fed if not happy about it and my stuff transferred, we sent Jordan on her way and headed for Tomball. By the time Jordan was in Hillsboro, we were still skirting Waco in awful traffic.

I will say that being in the car for long hours gave me a great chance for a catch-up visit with one son and one granddaughter, and that part of the trip was delightful. Sophie was good as gold. And a highlight came when we stopped at a Dairy Queen in College Station for soft serve. But it was nearing five o’clock when we finally walked in the door.

Big chore was to introduce Sophie to Ginger, the Aussie who now reigns over the Tomball household. They get along, but Sophie is clearly like a fish out of water. Keeps me in her sight, doesn’t eat, doesn’t go in her crate which is in the bedroom where I’ll sleep. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will cheer her.

Lisa catered to us and fixed salmon and salad for supper. Fourteen-year-old Kegan, truly a growing boy, topped his off with a can of Spaghetti-Os.

It’s not late, but I feel like it is. Going to sleep soon.