Tagging Along on Tuesday

Tuesday for Dad is Lunch With The Cabal Day. It started as a group of Dad and friends too long ago to remember. The numbers have dwindled but the day remains firm. Since the beginning of this gathering, Niece Nat, my brother and I have all been honored to be in their number from time to time as I did on this day. But I get ahead of myself.

I love how Merlin adores Dad. And Dad’s treat pocket, which he watches assiduously. In one gulp, Fiona could have a week’s worth of treats.

From afar, Merlin has a wider range of vision and his eyes never leave Dad. That hand could go into the treat pocket at any time, you know.

Back in the RV on Tuesday morning, Merlin and I began our day early as is our custom. With his post-breakfast nap and my coffee.

One could, I suppose, begin with tidying up our quarters but that would take far too much effort. Especially with my moose occupying much of the precious square footage. Him getting a drink of water brings any of my planned movement to a screeching halt.

For our morning walk, I recalled Facebook friend Leslie advising me that the lovely flower I’d seen before was of the passion fruit variety. Remember, I’m basically a Midwest gal so anything other than corn and sorghum remains fairly alien to me. Especially passion fruit. So I embarked on an effort to find one emerging from its flower. And succeeded.

The compulsory shot of Merlin posing by his wheels adorned with the Aluminet™ shade cover had to be next. When I initially got it secured and Dad came out to inspect my work, I suggested to him that all we needed were a couple of cinder blocks and an old tire to make the scene complete.

Pat warned me that Dad left earlier and earlier for his lunch date with the Cabal. Even so, I was surprised when, at 9:30, she came to the RV window to advise me that Dad was in his car, ready to go. I switched on the air conditioning for Merlin, who I’ve come to trust unfettered in the RV, and climbed into the cockpit of Dad’s 2001 PT Cruiser/F-86 Sabrejet. A good copilot would have kept her eyes open scanning for trouble at all times. Well, I’m not that kind of copilot, choosing instead to avert my eyes from all close calls to admire the scenery. All the blood pressure and heart rate drugs in the world would not have compensated for my anxiety otherwise.

Pat also told me that he stopped on the way at a little bookstore with a coffee shop. Who knew that little bookstore was, in fact, probably the last remaining Barnes & Nobel brick-and-mortar store. We talked a bit about why anyone would read this book or that, Dad purchased a political “non-fiction” hardback, and we drove through the parking lots of the several adjacent shopping centers to Mimi’s Café. Yes, my nose work/lunch friends will be relieved to know that the chain lives on, despite the closure of our local haunts by the same name. 

Over lunch, Pete told me all about the all-volunteer woodworking shop he’d established, then we bored dad with pictures and stories about my dog and Pete’s granddog. May I present now, the current Cabal, Pete and Dad.

Afternoon food-coma snore-honking nap for me on getting home*. Despite my steeling myself for weeks ahead of the trip for calmly and silently watching the evening Fox News, we simply enjoyed cocktails and conversation before dining on a wonderful filet dinner. With baked potato and salad. A real meal in my estimation. Dad did, at one point, talk with great passion about the caravan headed from Guatemala to the U.S. I deferred from expressing my countervailing opinion other than to point out the difference between this and Europe’s Muslim migrant invasion was that most Guatemalans are Catholic.

I leave too soon on Wednesday. With but a 4-hour drive ahead, though, there will be no breaking camp at dawn for me so I’ll enjoy a bit more time with Dad, Pat and Fiona.

* “Home” for this Air Force brat, is anywhere she’s slept through the night. In this case, however, Pat and Dad have made this a real home base for me. I can’t thank them enough.