During our vacation earlier this month, we tried to go canoeing but got rained out. Since we couldn't float the mighty Flint River, we knocked back a cold one and shot pool at the grimy old river outpost. Lightning popped all around us. We kept the jukebox fed on quarters. Merle Haggard, mostly.
After the rains died down, the proprietor of the outpost invited us into his home to look at the weather radar. More thunderheads were headed our way, and not wasting any time. (It was odd, actually. I could look out his window and see the front approaching over the mountain as the weatherman yammered on about it on satellite t.v.) "Y'all made a good decision, not goin' out there today," he said.
Earlier I had tried to convince Janelle that we should, in fact, brave the lightning and rain, since we are, in fact, hardcore and so rarely get a chance to float the Mighty Flint. This was the dumbest idea I've had in a while and I'm proud of Janelle for looking me in the eye and saying "No. Dumb idea. Let's play pool instead," while the proprietor laughed, shook his head and agreed with her.
The old guy had a small dog that came over to me all familiar and sweet. And there was a woman - his wife I'm guessing - frying squash, peeling squash, and steaming squash. ("Now that was a damn squash household" I later told Janelle.) The wife said, "Y'all like squash?"
Hell yeah we like squash.
So she invited us to stay for supper, which we didn't, but she and her husband wouldn't let us leave without taking us around back to their garden and giving us huge armfuls of kale, onion, collards, and squash to take home and stir fry. "It's all organic, too," the old guy said.
So no canoeing happened, but Janelle and I ate the auspicious greens of the open road...and they were delicious.
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