Something about a road trip on a hot day turns a DQ sign into a hypnotizing tractor beam. I’m a kid again, on endless summer car trips to Grandma’s house in Mississippi. The only entertainment is dot-to-dot, word search, and keeping my eyeballs peeled for Dairy Queen or Stucky’s. Chocolate milkshakes from Stuckey’s were the most amazing things to be savored and made to last as loooooong as possible. It was like being let out of a dark prison cell for one glorious hour in the sunny exercise yard, after which there was only darkness again.Now that I’m a grown-up, going where I want and stopping as many G…D… times as I want to, yeah, I still can’t resist the siren call of D.Q. Ahh.
Staying in this small Lake Dallas park has felt like having a lake house without the worry over flooding. There’s plenty of space between sites, especially being half empty, and we have lake views from every window. The blue herons and snowy egrets stand sentry in the water, while mallards paddle along in groups. A nearby birdhouse hosts actual bluebirds! I still get a thrill seeing those guys and wonder where they’ve been all my life. A newly-built trail around part of the lake made for a couple of interesting exercise walks.
As a special treat, Michael built a fire tonight, and the temps cooled off enough that we could sit outside around 9pm without broiling ourselves.
We moved camp to a spot on Lake Dallas (Lewisville), and I decided to indulge in a little weaving time. Even though we’re not fully unpacked, and I still have half a gazillion boxes of slides to go through, I deserve a little creative time.
Right? Right. Besides, Herr POTUS who must not be named is liable to start WWIII tonight in Singapore, so drink up, me hearties, and do whatever ye like!
This little park near Denton features beautiful shade trees and miniature residents. I wonder what they’re saying about us?
Today is our first official morning of saying “We live here now.” This is home; the sticks and bricks place is work, for a little longer.
The dance room is now our office. It’s not nearly as much fun, but it does represent progress in moving out.
If you Google “Flying Keys” today, you’re more likely to get references to a certain wizarding world. Back in 1935, however, the Flying Keys were famous aviator brothers who made a record-breaking flight of 23 days over Meridian, MS and worked out a way of refueling in the air without setting their plane on fire. Twenty years later, it seems they displayed the Ole Miss at Meridian’s Key Field one last time before flying her to Washington D.C. and turning her over to the Smithsonian. My dad was on hand in 1955 and snapped these photos.
Thanks to Meridian residents who remember these folks, I can identify a few. The man in the dark suit below, second from the right, was then the Mississippi Attorney General James P. Coleman (later Governor). Al Key appears in his military uniform, and his brother Fred Key is the tall man beside Al, holding a hat.
Below, from left to right are: Senator John Stennis, Congressman Jamie L. Whitten, unknown 1, Fred Key, Attorney General James P. Coleman, Al Key, unknown 2, unknown 3.
My archeological dig through family photos continues. Framed pictures offer hope of more photos underneath, maybe younger versions of the old guy on top. In this case the top pic was yet another copy of a particular shot of my dad and his sister as little kids, squinting into the sun. Don’t they look like the Little Rascals?
Flipping the frame over, I pulled out the rusty nails holding a cardboard backing with this stamped on it:
Radio Picture Frame Co.? Odd.
Under the kids’ photo was the advertised Hand Colored Mexican Picture, although it looks more Spanish to me. Mildly interesting but not nearly as exciting as the movie poster that had been cut up to use as backing board. The fine print says, “Copyright 1936, RKO Radio Pictures, Inc.” Who was this ruggedly handsome man? Does he look threatening because someone called him yellow?