Oh, Sports Fans, thanks to all of you for the many wishes of safe travels for our trip home to Pretty and Paw Licker Annie and Tennis Ball Obsessed Chelsea!   I am happy to report that we arrived safely late yesterday afternoon and Pretty and the Pups were overjoyed to see The Red Man, but I want you to know it wasn’t an easy trip.   OMG, the Interstate Highway we rode on Monday was a nightmare, let me tell you.   I’ve NEVER seen so many cars and pickup trucks and SUVs and  18-wheelers and RVs and motorcycles and Unidentifiables and what-nots and everybody was in a hurry and Lucy Anna is the WORST state we drive through because we have that Atchafawhosit Swamp and Basin and River and Big Ass Bridges over troubled waters  and whatever else they can think up down there for us to drive through and over and around.   Shit house mouse.   My nerves were shot.

And, to be honest, I can’t really blame the Roads for all of my troubles.   I was perfectly humiliated at the appearance of our Old Faithful Dodge Dakota for the trip.   Amiga Driver brought every plant she could gather up for the last two weeks including a whole PILE OF CACTUS from the Dalton Brother Cousins in Navasota and crammed them in the back of our pickup along with all of the other suitcases and Important Paper Plastic File Totes the old woman Slow HAS to carry back and forth across the 900 miles of our trip.   Geez Louise.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Ugh.   I can’t even bring myself to look.   Think Joads, Clampetts, etc. and then think Poor White Peeps and Pups of Unknown Origin plus  Amiga Driver.     Sweet Jesus.

And where did we stay Monday night??   In the Lap of Luxury (NOT!!) at a motel on the Texas side of Montgomery, Ali Baba.   Not even a La Quinta, I might add.   We’re talkin’ your Basic Motel lost in the 70s or maybe even before.   Of course, Amiga Driver immediately noted the room did not pass her cleanliness test.   Muy soucio which is Spanish for very dirty.   Slow reminded her we were only staying for one night and we had been driving for 11 hours and were muy cansada, which is Spanish for very tired, if you don’t mind.   Smokey Lonesome Ollie adapted right away.

I was too tired to eat, but I wanted to make sure Ollie didn’t get any of the food.

After a night in which evidently moi was the only one who slept like the dead, we got up early, packed the truck and prepared to hit the road for the second half of the trip.   Slow and Amiga Driver went for the free breakfast in the little lobby area while Smokey Lonesome Ollie and Yours Truly waited in the truck with the windows down.   I took a final glance at our accommodations and wondered briefly if we needed to apply for a Bailout from the government to make our next Texas Trip.   Help – take me back to the La Quinta!!

As the final straw, the place was surrounded by a thick fog that gave me further creeps.   Two of the middle-aged women Cleaning Peeps were standing outside the motel lobby puffing away on cigarettes while they leaned on their brooms and of course they were admiring the Pups in the Truck.   Actually, they only saw Ollie because I was too embarrassed to be seen with all this junk in the truck bed so I was layin’ low like the Tar Baby in the front seat next to the driver’s seat.   They were talking and talking and smoking and smoking as Peeps like to do and one of the women told the other one that she’d never seen as much fog as she’d seen when she looked out her kitchen window at her back yard that morning.   “I couldn’t hardly see from here to nowhere,” she said.   Amen, sister.   I feel the same way on SO many levels…

Catch you later, Amigos!