Thursday evening we check into the bed and breakfast that we will be staying for the next two days. It is uphill about a third of a mile on a dirt road lined with Maple trees. The road up to the bed and breakfast is almost coffee table book perfect.
This is where we meet Max. He is a very friendly German Shepard. He has big dark ears. Max’s ears remind me of a dog I can barely remember from my childhood named King. He loves to play just about any game that Big Scott can come up with. I really don’t think Max realize how large of a dog he is. It’s been fun watching Big Scott play with the dog. I’m still angling for a dog but so far no dice.
We decide to eat at a place called Cattails. Our waitress, Mel, knows everyone except us. Yup, we’re the tourists. She asks Big Scott for his drink order. Big Scott says, “What kind of pop do you have?” Mel gets a very confused look on her face. Big Scott realizes that this must not be an area where the term “pop” is used. He offers, “Sprite, Sierra Mist, something like that.” I think, she was relieved that she didn’t have to struggle with that anymore. The food is fantastic. Flat Todd receives yet another photo op even though our waitress thinks I’m a bit odd. Thinks I’m odd. Oh wait. Too late. Mel is here getting her picture taken. Smile pretty.
In the parking lot of Cattails is an ice cream stand. This is where we hear the term “Creamy”. It could be spelled, “Creamie” for all I know. Big Scott and I aren’t really sure what a “Creamie” is but it sure looks like soft serve ice cream. I will elaborate on that in a later edition.
Isn’t interesting to see what Midwesterners think about the east? It’s a bad TV sitcom waiting to happen. Here in Nebraska there are only Republicans and those damn hippies. It’s true.
Thursday night, we are returning to the bed and breakfast later in the evening. It is after dusk. The really neat dirt road up to the bed and breakfast isn’t quite so cool after dark. It was just at the perfect temperature that there was a misty haze. Creepy. We are slowly moving up the hill. A squirrel being chased by a cat runs across the road. I did not see this. I had my nose in a book. I just hear the “mom gasp” and I look up. What I see to my overly active brain is a something that appears to rolling across the road. This is where reading too much can be a bit of a hurdle. My brain is thinking, “Oh my God, Ichabod Crane!” Back to sleep.Mel at Cattails!