6.7 Day 2 * On Roadside Attracts, or; Non-Disney

Ah, the sleep-in. Til all of 7 AM, but that's sleeping in compared to the school year. We'd opted for a quick trip to the cabin over church, despite all there is to be thankful for. There were water jugs and other supplies to haul down, and the riding lawn mower needed to come home for some maintenance.
BRRR!! My hands were numb by the time I finished loading the truck!
It was a tidge warmer, but wet, down at Finlayson. The garden has exploded -- potatoes poked their leaves up through the sand, and the snow peas wove tendrils around one another. Thistles and quackgrass lurked between the rows, like thugs on a dark street, knowing it was probably too cold and too wet for me to go after them.
We UNLOADED the topper, LOADED the ragtop, UNLOADED the water and other goods, LOADED the riding mower, and; as the rain loomed nearer, stood a moment on the dock to enjoy the waves. As Pat peered out with his spyglass, piratelike, over the water, a bald eagle swooped out from the trees mere feet from us, zooming low over the water. I watched as he approached the opposing shore - his body reared up slightly, feet came down and SPLASH - plucked a fish from the water. There's church - right there - yet another amazing thing to be thankful for! Pat caught the action through the spyglass as the eagle landed in a tree lakeside; fish in claw then in beak; then gone.
Wet grass and heavy skies caught up with us as we pulled the gate shut and headed out. On Highway 61, in Rutledge, Pat pulled over to a curiosity we'd driven by thousands of times - since it was the thousand-and-first time, we had to stop! The old gas station was bejeweled in driftwood, antlers, handmade signs, and a full fan of turkey feathers, which the proprietor confirmed were "local," "from a roadkill" and "smoked" - the roadkill turkey, that is, not the feathers. The gentleman told us of his ambitions to make a place off to the north side of the station to create his birdhouses (there were several there already of all sizes). The whole place was surrounded by oddly sculptural things; car chassis (sp?), taxidermied animal components, buckets of flowers - you name it. The shelves inside held everything from engine components to hot dog buns. What a place - reminiscent of some we'd visited along Route 66.
Home, COLD, to the gym, COLD, to the grocery store, COLD. Hunkered down with the kitties and the big warm man.