This is actually a two-fer, since I just snuck in a second trip this past weekend, but let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
Lilly is now an experienced traveler and she was an absolute trooper during the trip back to Illinois. We got off to a rocky start, she began whining after about 45 minutes in the car, we weren’t even out of North Carolina yet, so I dutifully pulled off onto an entrance ramp so she could go potty. We walked around and she sniffed for every bit of 15-20 minutes before I determined it to be a false alarm. We got back in the car and drove to Beckley, WV for a break. We stayed for about an hour and she not only didn’t really eat anything, she never did her business. She did however meet a charming young Jack Russell terrier from Reno, NV. named Tank. His human drove a tanker truck so… He was her first doggy bud, and once they each got over the initial shock of meeting another puppy, they were besties.
A couple of hours up the road, in Middleofnowhere, OH (not its actual name) Lilly started to whine again and this time she meant it. I found an exit and pulled off on the entrance side and within minutes she had emptied everything she had carried with her to that point. We made it to our hotel, checked in and hauled our stuff up to the room when I realized I’d forgotten something down in the car. We headed back down and as we turned the corner in the hallway I saw a woman with two large dogs, a Golden Retriever and another similar sized dog. I hesitated since Lilly hasn’t got much experience with other dogs (Tank notwithstanding) but thought since the woman didn’t say anything, her dogs must be social. I was watching Lilly to make sure she was acting appropriately when the Golden got off its collar and charged at Lilly growling. She cowered back into an alcove and I stepped in between the two kneeing the Golden away and telling it “NO!”. The lady grabbed her dogs and pulled him away and never once said anything about the incident. Nothing. Shame on me for assuming someone could control their dog, I guess. Had she told me her dog might be a jerk I would’ve picked Lilly up or something until they’d passed. Oh well. Lilly forgot about it in seconds and was proudly prancing back down the hall to the elevator.
In addition to her first time experiencing a jerk of a dog, and riding the elevator, this was the first time #LillyNO saw her own image. 
The hotel room had a closet with full-length mirrors for doors. Let’s just say hilarity ensued…
Day two was pretty uneventful. Another false alarm in Middleofnowhere, IL (also not its real name, but equally fitting) where we sniffed around a bean field for fifteen minutes, but that was it. We met the Great Vincenzo for coffee in Yorkville and he and Lilly hit it off great. She also attracted attention from almost every female patron that walked up. I think he wanted to borrow her for the day after that… just kidding… kinda…
Now, traveling several hundred miles like I do on these trips there are many rivers to cross (shout out to Jimmy Cliff) including… YES! my favorite, the French Broad River! Of course that didn’t come until my second trip (I’ll get to that in a little bit) but this thought occurred to me while driving through Indiana. I can’t, it seems, drive through Indiana without thinking about French Lick, Indiana. No, really, that’s the name of the town. Who the heck thought that was a good name for a town? French Lick is the home of NBA legend Larry Bird btw, and I think it’s also got a highly regarded resort there. But I can’t get past the name, you know? If you know me IRL, you know where my mind wanders when I think about the name. So, exhaustive research (I GTS’d it, natch) produced this. It’s named after mineral springs in the area. Kind of a let down, for me anyway.
But back to my travels. And the reason behind them. The Little Diamond and the Heir To The Throne each had a birthday, yay! LD became a threenager (boy did she ever, lol) and HTTP is now *checks math, looks in mirror, sighs* 18. Eightfrickinteen! How on earth did that happen? That’s a rhetorical question, btw. I know how it happened. I just have a hard time believing I have an 18-year-old grandson.
All in all, I had a great visit home. I didn’t see a lot of family, though I stayed with the Boy Child and PhojoMama™ and their family which was a delight. It also produced, quite possibly, one of my favorite pictures. 
As you can see here, #LillyNO struck up a quick but strong bond with the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby who at one point leaned over and looked the puppy in the eyes and said “Lilly, you’re the best dog EVER!” Instant heart melt. And I can assure you, she feels the same way about him. He read to her, played with her, cuddled with her, and generally enjoyed her company. If it hadn’t been for the high quotient of chewable things that she shouldn’t be chewing on, I think she would have slept with him while we stayed there.
I was able to meet with a couple different friends for coffee, always a plus and in both cases entirely pleasant. Lilly also met some of the guys at the firehouse that Sunday when we went in for Sunday brunch. Chef Bob once again delivered an excellent meal, biscuits and gravy that would pass muster at any of the fine Southern establishments I’ve discovered since I retired. One of the guys that I used to work with always commented how we should raffle off a chance to dine with us since Sunday brunch at the firehouse is a pretty awesome experience. 
I agree, it would be a great revenue stream for the village. #LillyNo seemed to have an innate understanding of the ideal way to address a Sunday at the firehouse. She settled into that spot and slept soundly, only picking her head up when the tones dropped and the fellas went out on a run. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of all the commotion, but then that’s not at all an uncommon response to waking up to the tones. We stopped back in a couple of days later to drop something off for one of the fellas and, after saying hello to the guys working that day, quickly resumed her favorite pose in her favorite position. Aaahhh, life at the firehouse can be so taxing. One must get one’s rest when one can, you know?
The return trip home was uneventful, thankfully. #LillyNO was again a real trooper, spending most of the trip sleeping in her crate on the floor behind me. Most of her random whining was put to rest by me reaching back and putting my fingers into her crate. I don’t know if that reassured her or what, but she would quickly settle down and go back to sleep whenever I did that.
I was home for about five days and then, leaving #LillyNO in the care of my neighbor, I headed out to Chattanooga, TN for a music festival. I met a couple of guys from the firehouse there and we had an amazing time. A little rain, but there was only one brief delay in the music. Chattanooga is a pretty cool town I think. Although when our Uber driver at one point advised us that “We took back downtown” was the root cause behind any resurgence there, it caused us all to wonder when Chattanooga had been occupied, by what invading nation, and why we hadn’t heard about the conflict on the news.
One other thing that made me chuckle was on Sunday morning, as we were walking back in to the festival. There was a man and a woman standing on a street corner by the entrance, each holding a sign advising us we should repent our sins or some similar message.,, The man, using a bullhorn, was calling out festival goers, telling them to change the error of their ways. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think organized religion is a fine thing and I know many people who have deep, spiritual roots and find great comfort in their faith. And I’m absolutely fine with that. But I had to laugh when, an hour or so later the skies opened up and poured rain, chasing the proselytizers down the street for cover, while the fest patrons stood enjoying the music. I guess Jesus didn’t approve of their message…
I also saw what may well be a copyright infringement of me. This shirt
– worn by a fellow music lover made me do a double take and prompted the picture. My only regret is not posing with the guy for the sake of comparison. I guess I should point out here that, the Boy Child, the fruit of my loins for Chrissakes, refers to me as “Doc Brown”. That, of course, is the Christopher Lloyd character from the “Back To The Future” movies. I asked the guy where he got the shirt and he said some random t-shirt shop in Florida. I found that part odd, since it says “Myrtle Beach, SC” on it, but whatevs, right? It’s still a classic and if I can find one, I will purchase it. Doc Brown, my ass…
I guess that just about covers my travels for the last few weeks. Quick Hurricane Florence update while I’ve got you… We got a little over four inches of rain yesterday. I think up to that point we were at about an inch and a half, so yesterday was pretty wet. No flooding near me to report, as hurricanes go, this was a good one to get my, ummm, feet wet on… #seewhatIdidthere #sorrynotsorry. This one turned a little more wordy than usual, but I had a lot to say so, ya know, stuff happens.
And, as Rod Stewart says “Every picture tells a story, donut”
Peace