Backsies Is What There Is Not: Sisters And Friends

If last week seemed to last a year, this week was a mere minute long. How does that happen? Maybe it was because the College Boy was home for spring break, and in the back of my mind, I kept telling myself I only had seven days with him home, then six, then five....

How about a Ten Things of Thankful about my dinner Saturday night?

My mom hasn't been well since she fell at the end of October, and although she's doing much better now, when my dad called me earlier this week, my first reaction was to brace myself for some kind of bad news. Instead, he called to see if we wanted to go to dinner with him and my mom on Saturday night, which is two thankfuls right there, because (1) it wasn't bad news and (2) she's feeling up to going out somewhere.

See, there's this little town called Hume (population 325) about a 40 minute drive from my parents' home that has a little restaurant called Sisters & Friends. That alone is a Big Deal, as the town has a liquor store, a funeral home, a beauty salon, a grain elevator, a lumber yard/hardware store, a bank, a school, and post office and that's pretty much it. No groceries. No gasoline. On the second Saturday of every month, this little restaurant in this little town has all-you-can-eat boiled shrimp. And my dad is all about all-you-can-eat boiled shrimp.

"Downtown" Hume. I took these last summer,
hence, the green, leafy trees.

Once upon a time ago, there was a gas station here....

We trekked up to my parents' home, my husband, the College Boy, and I (daughter had a Big Event at school that she wanted to attend, so she didn't go with us). I have managed to win my son over to the wonderful music that was produced in the 70s and 80s, so we listened to that all the way up there, and he didn't make fun of my singing, unlike the one who didn't go with us often does.

The wheat fields are so lush and green, and even though signs of spring are popping out everywhere, the ground is still mostly brown. It was a gloomy, overcast day, but the green of the wheat still looked gorgeous against the still-brown pasture land and bare fields.

Taken from the car window, but you get the idea.

The main dining room in the restaurant was full when we got there, so we were seated in the back dining room. It is made out of a grain bin and it is awesome, although a long walk for my mom and her walker. The owner is a character, all 430 pounds of him (not an estimate, he brought it up), and wears overalls and a big beard and holds court at the cash register, and he unlocked a side door in the grain bin so we could get my mom back out to the car more easily.

The restaurant's main building.

The grain bin/dining room from the outside.

There are always pickled beets on the salad bar, and all the salads are made fresh in the kitchen. I will admit a little disappointment that there was no cornbread salad this time, but I made up for it with two kinds of potato salad, cole slaw with raisins and marshmallows in it (which sounds dreadful but was really good), pistachio salad (YOU know the one I'm talking about) and banana pudding.

My mom kept saying she was really hungry, which is terrific, as she has had little to no appetite for a number of months, and she ate three (small) plates I filled for her from the salad bar plus two large chicken strips (she's a huge fan of chicken strips).

My mom and the College Boy, inside the grain bin.

My dad, husband and son ate enough boiled shrimp to grow tails and feelers. (I had a hamburger steak, which I am terribly fond of, especially when wrapped in bacon, as they do here.)

My dad and husband in the grain bin. The empty
cottage cheese container is for shrimp shells.

On the trip to the restaurant, where we took all back roads, because my dad likes to take back roads, we met a grand total of two cars during the 45 minute drive. How many of you can say you drove for 45 minutes today and only saw two other cars?

It was dark when we headed back home, and although we took a slightly more direct route back to my parents' home, half of it was on a two lane road through the countryside where we, again, met only one car and didn't hit any critters, although if you ask me, that raccoon was asking for it when he ran out in front of me like that.

I'm also thankful that whatever that was on the side of the road (whose eyes were reflected in my headlights) didn't dart out in front of the car, because it was either a large deer (which means there were others behind him, as you never see just ONE deer) or a wolfman (my son's best guess), and neither would have been good with which to collide on a dark, country road.

I would have written this post last night,
but Ruby had other ideas.

Good company, (reasonably) good health, happy tummies all around, spring on the way, and I missed the raccoon. I'd say it was a good week!

Link up, yo.