At the Lake

We planned to spend five days in the Lake area. That’s Lake Ozark in Missouri, (home of Bagnell Dam, the dam that blocks the Osage River and creates Lake of the Ozarks) and Eldon where our kids live.

I call them kids, but they’re not really kids. Kevin and Kandyce are grown adults with a son of their own. Isn’t it funny how we always think of our children as kids?

In a conversation with my beautiful West Virginia gal, Trish told me. “I showed Sunni (her daughter) a picture of Kevin and asked if she knew who it was. She didn’t. When I told her it was Kevin, she said, ‘No way! He’s only three-feet tall!’” We laughed. “He probably was the last time she saw him,” she finished.

But I digress.

We planned to spend just five days there then head to Iola, Kansas, home of Mike’s cousin Suzy, and where we would meet Mike’s brother Cork, who was coming from Las Vegas.

The best laid plans.

Cork, a nickname for Charles, called. “I’ve got some bad news. The RV broke down.” He understood if we didn’t want to wait around until he got his RV fixed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike told him. “Take a deep breath. It’ll all work out.”

Mike and I talked. “I don’t want to have driven all this way and not get to see him,” Mike said.

“It’s okay with me if we stay longer. The only issue is if the Kipps mind taking care of the cats for a few more days.”

I know we created a burden for those lovely, kind, generous neighbors of ours when we asked if they would take care of the cats while we were gone. Even if we’d’ve still had our RV, we couldn’t’ve taken all of them with us. The feral cats would still need to be fed. But because we had to leave them all, there were litter boxes to be scooped, and I’m not talking about one or two. I have six boxes in the house and two in the cat room that I scoop EVERY. SINGLE. DAY! There are three more in the garage and one on the patio that I scoop only occasionally.

“That’s a lot of boxes!” you say.

I know, right! Even though our clowder is down to six, I haven’t reduced the number of boxes. They don’t use them all every day.

“You have to ask them,” I told Mike and he did. He got right on the phone and called the Kipps.

“It’s fine. You stay just as long as you need to and we’ll take care of things here,” Miss Rosie assured us.

Taking Bondi with us created problems all in and of its own. We took her kennel with us so we could leave her when we needed to. But we tried not to leave her if we didn’t have to.

The mornings were cool enough that she could wait in her car seat while we had breakfast. Usually, she’d be sleeping when we got back to the car, but on this morning, she was watching for us. It tickled me.

The kids have jobs. I bet you guessed that. That meant that Mike and I had to entertain ourselves until their workday was done, which was more than fine. We had old friends to see. People who wanted to have breakfast, lunch or dinner with us.

This seems like a good place to say that if you eat ever single meal out for almost two weeks, you might bring four extra pounds home with you. Just sayin’!

We decided to go to our old strip mall and visit with some of our old tenants even though we knew the chances were good only one would be there that early in the day.

“You visit and I’ll walk Bondi down the Strip.” Listening to two old guys flapping their jaws was not my idea of a fun time.

The doors were open on our old garages and I took a peek.

This was where we kept our RV. We lived half in and half out of it. I can see my old kitchen stuck back in the left-hand corner.

Our old garage. We let the lift go with the place and I see Frankie, a Halloween game painted by Barb, has survived. She painted a bunch of games for the town Halloween party we hosted every year.

Well, the new owners do own bars. I guess my old garage is as good a place as any to store inventory, leave the door wide open — unattended.

A couple of cans in front of a business declare, NOT A TRASH CAN.

I was curious as to what it was then and opened one. Hmmm. Looks like trash to me.

I’ve walked this strip many times during the time we lived there. Even among the trash, blacktop, abandoned lots, and concrete, wildflowers still grow.

Grow where you’re planted — and be beautiful.

Posted in a window, behind a bench, in front of a store.

Other pictures from my walk.

I thought this old metal railing behind the old Continental Motel was interesting. My picture doesn’t do it justice.

In my pursuit of a good picture, I happened across a guy named Mike. I told him who I was and that I used to live in town. He told me he works for the owner of this building (and several others) and was currently rehabbing the old hotel into office units and apartments.

“And the old pool there has been filled in and we’re going to make it into a patio.”

“Cool! Do you mind if I look around a little?”

“Not at all,” Mike said.

I climbed the old steel steps to a second-floor patio.

What a fabulous patio the renters of this new apartment are going to have!

I tried the door to see if I could peek inside. It was locked. I’d have to be content looking in the windows.

I looked over the rail and realized it overhung the pool. I went down a flight to show you just how far.

I found Mike near the steps that led to the pool. He was measuring for something.

“How many people do you think jumped off the second-floor balcony into the pool?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I’d never do it.”

My phone rang. It was my Mike.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At the old Continental.”

“Come down to the dam, there’s someone here.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there.” On my way out I took pictures of the backside of the old hotel.

And tried again for the metal railings. It didn’t come out any better than the first one so I’ll spare you.

The Strip is becoming almost all bars. It’s kinda sad but if that’s the only thing the locals support, no other business will make it when summer’s over and the tourists are gone.

Even though this building was here when we lived here, the business is new.

I found Mike talking with this handsome guy. Bob Grider. We’ve been friends with him and his wife Tammy for years. In fact, we had a date to have dinner with them one night.

We visited with Bob for a while before he had to head off to his job on the Paradise parasail boat.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Mike announced. “I’m going up to McDonalds."

“Okay. Well, I’m going to finish walking the Strip and I’ll see you back at Luby’s.”

It was still called Luby’s. They kept the name after they bought the place.

An old motel. It’s right on the waterfront. I wouldn’t be surprised if something new goes in there one day.

I spent some time talking with this gal. I love the wind spinners and she gave me a brochure for the guy who makes them.

“I wanna make my own,” I told her.

I had no idea what this sign meant. None. I had to ask.

“It’s to keep the biker gangs out,” I was told. Or maybe she said it was to keep them from fighting, I don’t know.

I was surprised to see one of the benches from our old picnic table at a business down the Strip. There used to be four of them. I only saw this one.

Lonnie, a fixture in the bars and on the Strip. An accident in his youth left him with a concave skull (you’d see it if he took his hat off) and diminished mental capacity. He doesn’t drive but lives just off the Strip. And he’s a heck of a nice guy.

Back at Luby’s, Mike was waiting for me. We saw that Beth, a business owner across the street from our old place, was open. When we lived there, Mike would visit her nearly every day she was open.

Beth’s business used to be called Peace Frog but has since been shortened to The Frog.

Mike visited with her for a little while.

Then it was off again to see someone else. Jennice, at the sign shop, has exotic birds. Bondi and this bird seemed to make a connection and intently stared at each other. The bird would make noise and Bondi perked her ears right up, but she didn’t bark.

Lunch was with old friends, Gary and Lonnie’s mom, Ellie. We left Bondi in the hotel room in a kennel because the car would be too hot.

After lunch, Mike watched TV and I read my book.

Dinner would be with the kids again this night. Pulling up to the house, look what I see peeking out the window!

Someone was waiting for us!

Andrew played with his new Skee-Ball game while dinner was being made.

Afterward, we visited while Andrew painted.

“You wanna get ice cream?” someone asked.

Our second day there and I’ve had ice cream twice already.

“Where should we go?”

Eldon had two places. We settled on The Ice Cream Factory, which took credit cards and the other one didn’t. The kids offered to buy but Mike wanted to treat and we don’t carry much cash.

“I gotta walk Bondi first,” I said and got up. Andrew came out in the yard with me while the kids got around.

Andrew was so cute. He showed me how they’re doing exercises in school. Pushups, jumping jacks, squat thrusts (otherwise called burpees).

The Ice Cream Factory has color-changing spoons, which was pretty cool.

They did not have any sugar-free ice cream for Mike. He’s avoiding sugar these days.

“It’s an ice cream factory!” Kevin exclaimed once we were outside. “They make ice cream! Go in the back and get some!”

Andrew got a milk shake and Mike didn’t get anything.

We sat on the patio in the early evening darkness and chatted as we ate our ice cream.

You think Andrew’s not listening, then he chimes in with something clever. None of us remember what he said, but in my head, I can still hear Kevin laughing and saying, “Good one, buddy!” and giving him a high-five. The moment re-created for a picture. I took one from where I sat and saw the light wasn’t good.

I got up and went around the table. “One more time!” I said, and the boys happily complied.

Sorting my pictures, I found that I liked both shots for different reasons. Which one would my peeps like best? I wondered and took the question to Facebook.

“I like the top one,” my beautiful Jody said. “It gives it a mirror illusion.”

I love that perspective!

But Trish nails it with her comment.

“I like the bottom one better. You can see the happiness on Andrew’s face.”

And there’s that, too.

The vote came in at an even 4-4 split.

“I've found another picture with several views of the same thing and can't decide which one to show in my letter blog!” I told my peeps. “If I ask y'all, I bet the vote will be split again... What a conundrum!”

Jody came up with an idea. “I think the photos need to be a mini-series in themselves. The road trip, inside the picture choosing, inside the story the pictures convey.”

I don’t know how to reply to this. I wish I had nothing else to do but write stories for you. I love, love, love, writing. The first story in this series took you about fifteen minutes to read (more or less) and took me about four days to write.

Let's call this one done. Stay tuned. More to come!