Well, that was certainly another adventure.:R Headed out on a Saturday about midday (sister is not an early riser), and made it to Tyler, TX before my friend, who was following on his Goldwing, announced he was done being parbroiled for the day. It was seriously hot and he didn't have a way to rehydrate while riding.
Spent a quiet night cooling off and rehydrating, then the next morning stopped for fuel and prepared to head to Vicksburg. My friend did not look all the way through the turn from the station to the road, went over a curb, down an embankment, and into a concrete drainage ditch. The bike landed upright, but slammed him against the concrete, breaking his kneecap and two fingers. We spent the next couple of days helping him through surgery, insurance and motorcycle repair setup, and getting him back home to Virginia. Our 14-year-old nephew was remarkably calm through the process.
On to Vicksburg, finally. Oy! I've spent some time in really hot and humid parts of the world, but never have I encountered a wet bulb index like Vicksburg. We very much enjoyed the tours around town and the battlefield/siege lines, but the most precious thing of all was the car's air conditioning.
Next stop was Shiloh, partly via the Natchez Trace Parkway. Unlike Vicksburg, where the forest has grown up so much that it's almost impossible to see the siege lines as they looked in 1863, Shiloh still looks like it did during the battle. It was just as hot, but nowhere near as humid as Vicksburg, so I honestly enjoyed Shiloh a lot more.
Then we went to Corinth, MS, where we could see very little of the battlefield, thanks to development over the years. The Visitor Center gave us a great feel for the battles there, and we could see an occasional artillery emplacement, but far more interesting was the driving tour of the historic homes in town. Sister liked that best.
Trip home was not as enjoyable as the trip up (not counting my friend's accident), since nephew now wanted to be home and whined a lot. But we made it back in one piece, and he can say he's seen something few of his classmates have seen. She's talking about Gettysburg next, and looking at me to be the tour guide.:E
Spot and Alex were so happy to be home that they've hardly gone outside. Spot has taken up a new napping position, on the footrest of my recliner, where he can use my leg for a pillow. Seems each time we leave him at the vet, then bring him home, he gets more affectionate, as if he's really believing we're not going to abandon him.
Last night was interesting. Alex was being a bad boy and not coming in. I walked about with a flashlight, and as I passed the water trough, I saw a baby barn swallow floating in it. Oops, looked like a little one didn't make it. Then I saw it breathing, so I scooped it out and set it on the ground. It was definitely alive.
OooKay, how does one dry off a totally saturated and exhausted baby barn swallow? For a while, I held it in both hands, so it could warm up. It was 11:00 pm, 90 degrees, and just enough breeze that it was dangerous for the little critter. Couldn't take it inside -- two cats and too cold. So WLToo brought my Kindle and turned on the porch light, and I sat there holding the bird, who by now had a very firm grip on my hand, and read for a while. Every so often, I'd check to see if it was drying, and finally had WLToo bring a wash cloth to wrap around it and absorb some moisture. About midnight, it seemed to be dry enough to let it rest undisturbed, so we put it in a box and set it inside the garage, where it would be warm, quiet, and safe from predators.
At 0700, I woke to the feel of a 14.8 pound cat standing on my leg and kneading biscuits on my hip. Ouch. Oh, the bird! I bounced out of bed, disgruntling both cats, and went to check on the bird. It was dry, had moved out of the wash cloth and onto the shoebox paper, and looked up at me rather calmly. WLToo woke up and put the little thing back in the nest, where it is presently preening itself and getting fed. I do hope its next flight doesn't land it in the swimming pool...
Meanwhile, our deer herd has taken to strolling across the south porch several times a day in a line, looking in the windows. I guess that's a sign that we need to start watering the lawn again.
I see Spot is stalking a gecko again. Time to rescue it. Later, y'all.
"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." -- Mahatma Gandhi
Czarny, black cat
Rainbow Bridge: Spotacus, Alexander the Grrreat, and so very many more