We stopped for gas and stumbled upon the BEST fried chicken nuggets and fried (breaded) potato wedges. OMG!!!! The very sweet, shoot! A "Southern Belle" type only genuine, offered me a sample, which sold me on 24 nuggets, 16 fingers, and 12 wedges!! then I had to pick the dipping sauces!!
"Argh! I'm camping", I think! "I don't know nothin' 'bout sauces!! I just listen to Siri and drive!
We gobbled them up faster than a turkey says, "gobble" and headed east, inland, upland, into the Shasta mountain range.
Nothing but mountains and trees, dotted with meadows and farms. A single cloud hugs the upper range: a late afternoon kiss. My ears begin to pop. A lone eagle glides the invisible currents. Surfing the sky waves, expertly harnessing nature's power for its purposes.
Pleasure: like the deck-changing surfer preparing to ride the Brookings, Oregon surf.
Business: should an errant hare, beware?!
Instinct: It must be....free, within the bounds of its instinct.
I don't know...I'm being "mom" myself and keeping the peace, poorly among kids who smell "smells", dispute the value of artist, "missing notes" (john's thoughts),
We're journeying on, east, away from the Pacific. That's sad, yet, majestic mountains await us...there's always hope.
Lassen! Here we come!
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