The car is shaking now
My stomach is doing flip flops
and our wallet is growing thinner than Kate Moss in her cocaine days.
Happy Mouth, Rollercoaster and Forrest are oblivious to any trouble thanks to all the Apple products physically adhered to their ears. We head down an exit ramp with only a light green sign with an outline of Florida with the number 23 in the middle.
I don't even think they make that shade of green for road signs anymore.
We S-L-O-W-L-Y go down the exit
and down it is like we are descending into hades.
There are no signs for food, gas or lodging.
There are no signs that label a town or street.
Just kudzu suffocating everything it touches ,
winding up and completely covering pines, electric poles and wires and half of the overpass.
Mr. Rogers looks right -nothing
I look left- nothing......but wait a small speck of yellow
"Turn right" I shout because the car is on its last leg Left we go and pull up to a lone gas station forgotten by time.
Well .... it is civilization right?
Okay so I will comment on the bit of obvious "Welcome to the Big "O"'s. I wish.
Mr. Rogers walks in spills our tale of whoa and is greeted by Diane who immediately
nods her poofy white curls and offers my husband some pecans.
Now you may think at this point that the banjo music should start playing
But I love small towns.
I live in one.
I like to visit them and I love meeting people in them.
Diane then reassures my husband that
Danny will be more than happy to "Come right on over and take a right look at that vehicle you got, I call him myself"
Within 8 minutes Danny has arrived, half the town knows we are there, my girls have been offered homemade pralines and Terry, Diane's husband, has been put on alert in case "them folks might be needin' a ride some where."
I love small towns.
Jesus was born in one, raised in another and loved everyone He traveled to.
And I am pretty sure He was in this one today.