Tomorrow Dad and I are beginning the two day drive to D.C. It’s about 20 hours, with Nashville smack dab in the middle. So we’ll stop there tomorrow night and hopefully listen to some good country music and feast on bison burgers. My dad doesn’t actually eat red meat, so I guess I’ll have two.
I wrapped up my time in Texas perfectly: BBQ at the local feed store and snow cones at the corner snow cone stand. Few things feel more like home than a tummy full of chopped brisket and mashed potatoes followed by a red raspberry snow cone (I get the same thing every time) to enjoy in a couple lawn chairs while the rust orange summer sun disappears over some pastures. Every time I come home there is some kind of new establishment: new neighborhood, new restaurants, new shopping center, new office buildings…all taking the place of lands that were once cow pastures or just barren fields. I like jobs and I like development, but I feel like I am slowly watching my home turn into a maze of houses and stores with fewer and smaller patches of green in between (if we’re being honest, the patches of grass are actually yellow). The feed store and the snow cone stand, however, are still small spaces of dirt. Of openness. Of uninhibited sunsets. Of simplicity.
Simplicity especially. The feed store is set up like a cafeteria. You get your tray, they give you the meat, you serve yourself your sides, pick up your slices of wonder-bread, and tear yourself off a piece of paper towel for a napkin. The snow cone stand is a two-person get-up on the side of the road that serves delicious shaved ice in styrofoam cups that you eat on plastic patio furniture. I’ll have to search a little bit to find that kind of calm in D.C.
I’ll miss you, Texas, but I’m looking forward to this next chapter. And I’m looking forward to this father-daughter roadtrip. I’ve spent the last several months running around out West so exploring a little eastern beauty should be fun. So there you go. The countdown to real life begins at 8am tomorrow on the open road!