As you get older, the clichés of life ring true. It’s the simple things that matter most: your family, the people you love, your health and sanity. -Ronan Keating, Irish singer, songwriter

April 30th, 2022.

Greetings from Cadiz, Kentucky where, if the saying about April showers is true, May flowers will be abundant and stunning (it has rained that much.)

Since last month’s post, everything has been going along smoothly with us, the pups, and Felix too, thank God, and there hasn’t been much to report. Unless you’d like me to bend your ear about our grandson’s baseball team, currently 20-3 on the season and ranked 16th in the state. I won’t, of course, but it is pretty amazing to see what’s become of the little guy whose t-ball games we attended not so long ago. Or so it seems.

It’s good to be back here, near Kate and the kids, though it’s made me aware of change and getting older. Bobby and Maeby are 15 and 13 now; Bobby hopes to get his drivers permit in June. In fact, one of the first things we did when we got here was to get the Juke (our old car) out of storage and tuned up and in-shape for him. Just being to drive himself to all of his commitments—baseball practice, games, and work—will help Kate tremendously.

Hopkinsville Brewing Company is in its seventh year already, which is hard to believe. Given the past couple of years—Covid and all its implications…lockdowns, masks, etc.—HBC not only survived, but has flourished, expanding its physical space and its production capability, too. How Kate manages to juggle family and business as well as she does amazes me. Dave, who spends Fridays and Sundays working on the HBC website often comments, “They’ve got a lot going on.” And they do. Live music. History On Tap. Comedy. Books at the Bar Book Club. Corn hole. Goat yoga. Yep, you read that last one right.

While we’re here, I’m helping Maeby with her very first sewing project, a gift for Kate for Mother’s Day. Sewing is one of those talents that looks so easy until you actually do it. Personally, it is not my forte, though in the past I have sewn a few items. One learns early on if a particular hobby is a good fit or not, and sewing was not something I liked enough to want to pursue. What I can do, though, is follow directions, and I was honest with Maeby about my limited ability.

While I prayed that God would make me the seamstress my granddaughter thought I was, Maeby learned that there’s a lot more to sewing than actually sewing: cutting out the pattern, pinning it to the material, cutting the material. It was slow going at first, but more actual sewing is happening now, so spirits have been lifted. I’m just grateful she didn’t choose to make a pleated skirt, which is what I chose to make as my first project so many years ago. In plaid, no less. No wonder I never really took to sewing. 🤪

We’re here for another week and a half, and then we’ll head straight back to our pad in Arkansas. I’ll only be there a couple of days before driving to St. Louis for my 50th high school reunion. I went to St. Elizabeth Academy, an all-girls, Catholic high school, and graduated in 1972. At last count, 51 of 134 classmates are coming, as well as three nuns who taught there then, so it looks like there’ll be a good turnout.

I’ve known the date of this reunion for at least six months, and I have vacillated between going and not going all that time. Even today, despite RSVPing “Yes” and sending in my money for the dinner, I’m not all-in. Seems that I still have tinges of the inferiority complex I had when I was a teenager—that “I’m not enough” feeling, Always something to work on…

I had to laugh at myself the other day, though…I wandered into T.J. Maxx and automatically started flipping through the blouses with the thought that I’d find something to wear to the reunion. Then I stopped myself in my tracks; it was as though a moment of clarity hit me upside the head. I am so anal about the space anything and everything takes up inside the RV, and here I was looking at getting something new to wear for maybe four or five hours, max. I laughed to myself. I will probably never see these people again, and here I’m thinking about what I’ll wear. What a waste of time and money; I think I’ll wear something I already have. Assuming I go, that is. 😉

Even though there is basically one route from Oak Grove, Arkansas to this part of Kentucky, I hope that we find a new and interesting place to stay overnight when we leave. Coming here, we stopped at BOOMLAND in southern Missouri. It is the world’s largest fireworks warehouse, and the write-up about its campground on the All Stays app made us curious enough to want to stop and check it out.

We’re glad we did, and we’ll probably stay here again. The location couldn’t be better (right off I-57), the cost is minimal ($15/night) and all the sites are pull-thru and have full hook-ups (electric, water and sewer.) When we walked the pups that evening, we discovered that just across the street was a memorial commemorating the importance of this very area—the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers—to the journey of Lewis and Clark in 1803. After spending five harsh and challenging days here marking time and map making, they determined that more recruits, more supplies and more money would be needed for the westward journey. It’s unexpected finds like this that make getting off the beaten path so worthwhile!

That’s about it from us aboard Felix. Until next time, take care, and if you have time, please comment 👇🏽 or email. I would love to hear from you and learn what’s happening in your world! Much peace, love, and great big hugs! ☮️ ♥️🤗 Maria

P.S. I am on social media again, Truth Social. Maria Russell@midwestgypsy