A Food And Road Adventure Kind Of Week Of Thankfuls

I wrote last weekend's TToT before the weekend, so this 'un is going to wrap two weekends up in one. 

1. I went to my dad's last Saturday, and he and I went to an auction that afternoon about five miles north of town. We didn't stay very long (it was HOT), and there wasn't anything we were terribly interested in (it was some household goods and the rest was all taxidermy supplies, guns, and sundry other items), but country auctions make for great people watching and are very entertaining. This one in particular had drawn about 15 Old Order Mennonite men and boys, and it was particularly enjoyable to watch the boys sitting on and admiring some ride-on mowers and motorcycles that were up for auction. 

They can't ride them, but they can admire them.

Lots of men, standing around. 

Watching as guns are auctioned.

Horses and buggies tied up in the shade.

2. We left the auction with the intention of going back to the house. My dad rode shotgun and was in charge of directions, and we took a side trip past where my grandma had once lived, then ended up driving all over that part of the country, turning randomly here and there. We took gravel roads and one lane bridges, and eventually, we were close enough to the tiny town of Hume to make it worth going there for lunch. We went to Sisters & Friends Restaurant, and I had one of the tastiest hamburgers I've had in a long time. My dad got a pork tenderloin sandwich that was as big as a plate. We left full and happy.

3. My husband, dad and I went to the stock car races that night. THIS is small town living in the midwest and south! Didja know stock car racing began during prohibition, when illegal moonshine was transported in souped up cars, at night, with no headlights, along winding country roads, as the drivers eluded the "revenooers"? The last time we went to the races, the College Boy (still need a name for him now that he's graduated) was two, and he played in the gravel under the bleachers the whole time. My dad always loved going to the races; my mom, not as much, but she went with him. After they bought the lake house, though, they spent their weekends at the lake and stopped attending stock car races. I'm so happy we finally made it back there this weekend. Very little has changed with the track, and it felt a little as if we stepped back in time about thirty years.

Green flag.

Me and my daddy at the races.

4. The day had been hot, but there was a stiff breeze that made the temperature that evening quite pleasant.

5. So the Nevada Speedway is a 1/4 mile dirt track. Know what happens when cars go flying by a few feet away from you on a dirt track? You get some dirt thrown on you. When you factor in some wind, you end up covered with a pretty good layer of dirt. On your skin. In your eyes. In your hair, all the way to the scalp. In your teeth. It's okay; I'm washable.

Here's one improvement at the ol' Speedway: the bathrooms have been upgraded. Back in the 1970s and 1980s, the bathrooms were indoors, and they DID flush, but there were no doors on the stalls. No. Doors. NO. DOORS. So, SO thankful for the upgrade. SO thankful.

6. My dad really enjoyed the evening and had no problem walking into the venue or with the gravel under the bleachers. He said several times, "This has been a really fun day!" and he was right.

7. I met two friends for dinner one evening this week, and we talked and laughed for two and a half hours.

With Allison and Amy after our marathon dinner.

8. Emma and I drove to Kansas City (everything's up-to-date there, you know) on Thursday and did a little Going To College shopping. We love our girl getaways, even if it's only a day trip.

9. This weekend, my husband, the College Boy and I headed to the lake house, because my dad wanted to take us to an old grist mill turned recreation area (College Boy opted out of this activity and went to a water park with his girlfriend instead). It was 70 miles away by road, probably 40 as the crow flies, and took us two and a half hours to get there (we could have made it in two, but Barfy McBarf Barf in the back seat got queasy the last fifteen miles of twisty roadways, and I had to slow down considerably). The place is called Rockbridge and has lodging (cabins and such) and a restaurant, and the creek is stocked with rainbow trout. We couldn't go inside the grist mill, as the floods in April caused considerable damage to it, but we walked down to the creek and then ate at the restaurant, where I had yet another tasty hamburger to cap off my week.

Creek flowing over the dam at the grist mill.

Trout lurking in the water.

10. Before leaving for the lake, my dad came by my house so he and I could go to the Spiva Center and see a sculpture exhibit by the man who lives across the street from the lake house. His name is Tim Cherry, he's extremely talented, and if you ever hear that he will have an exhibit at an art gallery near you, go see it! 

All three of these are bronze sculptures.

Man, I had a busy week, but not too busy to give thanks.

Linking up with Ten Things of Thankful.