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The Long Coffee Road

7/28/2019

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I have always loved A. A. Milne poems. One of my favorites is called The King's Breakfast--the tale of a King who just wants "a little bit of butter for his bread." However when the word is passed from the Queen to the dairymaid to the cow, the cow suggests marmalade instead. The King is distraught:
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The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"


I sympathized with the King this week only my morning wish is coffee. We are back in my Minnesota home town for a cousin's memorial service. We has reserved a room in an old, small motel that did not meet our needs in several ways--the most important being that the two outlets in the room were not enough to support a lamp, the oxygen concentrator, and the various chargers necessary to support that equipment. There also were no drinking glasses, no hand towels, no lights besides one lamp, nowhere to hang clothes or towels, and no in-room coffee! Nor did the motel offer coffee or breakfast.
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I had been told by an old friend that there was an excellent coffee shop in town so we proceeded to get our morning ablutions done and head there. The Bean is run by a friendly guy named Bill and is a coffee club--you pay a daily "membership fee" of $5 which entitles you to unlimited coffee, donuts and wifi--all in comfortable overstuffed chairs or at tables.

We spent the morning there and shared our motel room woes with Bill. Ironically, he also offers a Airbnb apartment above the Bean and a homestay suite in his home. Without much further consideration, we decided to move to the homestay suite. It was a huge improvement: more outlets, more light, closet and towel racks, and a small drip coffee pot in the bathroom.


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Yesterday morning, I eagerly prepared the little pot and waited. A few minutes later, I had half a pot of cold water--no color, no heat. We dressed and headed back to the Bean. Again we spent the morning because we were joined by several other family members in town for the service. I explained the coffee pot problem to Bill.
That afternoon, his wife brought us a small Keurig and a rack of coffee pods.


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Early this morning, I prepared my first cup of French Vanilla. The water heated, the coffee brewed, and as I started to pick up the mug, the pod exploded sending coffee grounds all over the appliance and counter. I  am not a regular Keurig user but I remembered that my daughter-in-law always pokes holes in the pod with a toothpick. I did that and have had success since. But I will be glad to return to my reliable Presto percolator tomorrow.

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It's Too Darn Hot

7/20/2019

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Cole Porter had it right. It's been gratifying that the temps are a little lower here than back in southeast Iowa but still my phone said there was a 'wind chill' (Really?) here last evening of 112. We had decided the night before last that, based on the forecast, we would forego the fair again yesterday and instead take a road trip.

Although Pam and I both grew up in this area, neither of us had ever been to the West Bend Grotto, billed as the largest man-made grotto in the world. So we took off fairly early in the day for the hour-an-a-half ride to West Bend.

The place is amazing. I had always assumed that it covered acres of land with grassy or park-like areas separating the structures. Actually it is contained in a city block with a grassy area in the center. The variety of materials--stone, mineral, and wood--boggles the mind, as does the thought that went into the design.


After a visit to the gift shop, we adjourned for lunch to the Wagon Wheel Cafe. Pam and John are on a quest for tenderloins, a delicacy not easily available in New Mexico, where they now live. The Wagon Wheel offerings nearly covered a plate and received very good reviews. Butch opted for the brat and cowboy beans while I had an excellent grilled chicken wrap.

By the time they dropped us off at the campground, we were ready for naps and later made do with sandwiches for supper after our big lunch. Pam and John returned after supper. as well as classmate Carole and her husband Marv. From 7-9, our area was pretty well shaded and there was a breeze. But at 9:00, the breeze died and out came those little black hard shell bugs that bite. The rest tore off for town while we escaped into the camper.

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The Green, Green Grass of Home

7/19/2019

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Actually, things are less green after several weeks of intense heat and no rain but it's the sentiment that counts. We are back in my home stomping grounds for the county fair and visits with a few classmates. Our journey up here on Wednesday was through some very threatening weather but we made it safely and got set up in some nasty heat.

It was warm enough to discourage me from cooking and we arranged to meet a classmate and her husband for supper in town. They live in New Mexico so our visits are very sporadic.


Thursday morning saw a few pleasant breezes but by noon the nineties were back in full force. We had already decided that it would be too warm for us at the fair and that some constructive indoor activities were called for. One of those activities was a nap, but before that, how about a pedicure? An online search revealed that at least five or six places offered such services.

We began with a local barber shop. The proprietor and a customer who were just chewing the fat when I walked in got a huge laugh when I asked about pedicures. The owner was astounded when I told him that his name comes up on a Google search. I explained that I was just visiting but had lived here years ago. They immediately wanted to know if I remembered if Russ' Barber Shop had a shoeshine stand. I replied that girls didn't frequent barber shops back in that day and left to continue my search.

Four more stops resulted in two closed establishments and two requiring appointments at least a couple of weeks out. We gave up and hit the local Fareway for a couple of necessities.

We returned to town in the afternoon to a sports bar with the British Open on TV. (We have no reception in the campground.)  A light supper, another visit with friends, and a beautiful evening sky finished the day.

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If You Don't Like the Weather

7/7/2019

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 Wait ten minutes. That's an old saying in Iowa, and I'm sure plenty of other places. I recently got my first smart phone, mainly so we would have access to weather radar and GPS when we travel without using our Hotspot. Last Wednesday, the day before the Fourth, we took off with our camper for Johnson-Sauk State Park near Kewanee, IL--about two hours away. Nothing on the radar. Temperature in the high 80s.

Right after we crossed the Mississippi and were circling the Quad Cities, we hit a torrential downpour. That's even what they called it on the local radio station: torrential. Visibility was so bad that we pulled off twice. That is not something I have ever seen my husband do. The temperature dropped from 92 to 69 in a matter of minutes. Still nothing on the radar.

We finally drove out of it into bright sun and the temp soared back to 88. As we neared our exit on I-80, we could see very black clouds to the southwest. Some rain in the distance on the radar but nothing close. As we drove in the park, another downpour hit and the temperature dropped to the 70s. The picture above was taken as we sat for almost a half hour, ironically waiting to fill our water tank.


The next three days were hot, humid, partly sunny with a constant threat of storms. Thursday, July 4, our son and his two children came out from Kewanee and we planned to grill pork loin chops over the fire to have with our fresh sweet corn. First, the fire ring on our site had apparently not been cleaned out in several years, and then shortly after the cooking started, a shower threatened the fire and emergency measures had to be taken. The finished meal was moved inside for the actual eating. Elliot was sure if he had one more kayak paddle, he could build a teepee to shelter the fire.
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    Some random thoughts about writing, camping, and eating.

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