Bikes, Blues and Barbeques

Gramma,

Just returned from a week in Arkansas for the Bikes, Blues and Barbeques rally.  The roads are all winding and it is wise not to exceed the suggested speed limits.  After all the chaos of summer, I needed this time to hang out with friends, partying and riding.  This year, the heat was oppressive.  We cut some of our rides in half to avoid the afternoon temperatures.  When the heat index was near a hundred, we drank more beer.  My foot still hurt from the bike falling on it,  The swelling was worse in the heat. 

There are still bars in AK that allow smoking.  My asthma forced me to stay outside.  There were two dogs tied up while their owners sat in the air conditioning.  I joined the dogs on the curb.  I got my dog fix hanging out with a friendly pit bull and some kind of happy mutt.  I always miss my animals when I am away.  My cat, who hates everybody, is likely hibernating under my bed.  The house sitter will only know there is a cat by the disappearance of food and water from her dishes. 

My house sitter lives in the city.  She has no car, so commutes using mine on the few days she is working.  She will call in sick and take some vacation.  When I get home, the car seat will be moved all the way forward.  Finding someone who is good with four needy dogs is problematic.  Also, there are no house keys, which city people do not embrace.  But I have iron gates and you need a code to get in.  The dogs can run free, even when no one is home.  Kate is happy to drink and toke and use the fire pit.  She likes the country sounds of frogs, the wind in the trees, the braying donkeys and screaming peacocks. 

I leave her copious notes for everything.  "The sound of werewolves will get the dogs barking after  midnight.  They are coyotes in disguise.  She texts me to ask who is Mr. Peepers.  "The canary.  Feed the canary."  Throw dog food out the front door for the loose peacock.  Do not allow Clark outside while feeding the penned peacocks.  He will streak past you and terrorize the birds.   Kate is a slob and I will come home to a mess, but she is worth it in peace of mind. 

While in AK, we take my stepdad, his wife and son out to eat. She is a hoarder, so we do not stop in.  Why anyone would move to AK from the north is beyond me.  As Norm has "summer teeth," he blends in with the locals.  (Summer there and summer not.)  He is 80ish.  I don't think I will see him alive again.  When we are taking pictures, I whisper "I love you," in his ear.  We have history.  We both endured my mother. 

The people-watching in AK should be listed on the tourist sites.  While listening to music at a concert, two women got into a heated passion play.  "You're not from around here are you," Dave said to a guy in the beer line.  "How did you know?" he asked.  "You have all your teeth." 

Our friend, Stick, smokes.  At the hotel, he came in from an outdoor smoking session.  I yelled at him and the woman he was talking to.  "That's my husband.  You leave him alone."  She mouthed, "I'm sorry" from the elevator.  Stick protested that I was not his wife and he didn't even know me.  His wife was amused.  "You sit your lily white ass down," I ordered.  The black bike group in the lobby laughed.  Later, I got the desk clerk to text Stick about the nice time she had talking to him, leaving a fictitious room number. 

At an overlook, I kept telling Stick to move over a little more, pretending that it would be a better photo op.  He didn't realize that someone had spray painted "Dick," along with a graphic, on the cement barrier he was standing behind. 

By the end of the week, I had a pretty good beer gut going.  We set off for home in the early morning.  Stick left two hours before us and the other couple, He Who Dawdles, left after us.  Stick warned us of the traffic ahead, where the cops were thick and where the roads were clear.  We almost caught up when they stopped for lunch.  I couldn't wait to see my pests.  Several interesting texts came from the house sitter. 

Where are the garbage bags.  WE are taking the recycling with us.  WHERE is the vacuum cleaner.  WTF.  In the past, Kate has had parties at the house and not cleaned up.  But, AGAIN, my animals are cared for.  Except when Titty, the cat, was trapped in the basement where her litter box is, with no food or water,  I came home to a somewhat vacuumed house. The attachment hatch on the vacuum was not violated. 

Kate was gone when we got home.  The mailbox was clogged.  Nests of dog hair had accumulated in every corner.  It always takes me a week to get back on track.  I posted on Facebook that my dogs had a spectacular time when I was gone, as there were only a few shots of vodka left in the half gallon of high end shit in the freezer.  "But, I left you a very nice brownie," she said. 

"I'm eating it now with ice cream." 

"I hope you don't plan on doing anything for the rest of the day." 

"Unpacking and relaxing." 

"You will mostly be relaxing." 

"WTF.  Why didn't you leave instructions on portion control." 

I slept for twelve hours.