I lost my pen.  Not today, it could have been yesterday. Actually, it is the second pen I have lost so far on this leg of the journey and I only brought two. Yet, theoretically, both pens should still be in this car.  Specifically, both should exist in the cab space of this car.  Properly motivated, I could find them.

I would put this on a list of things to do. A list of good work even, yet, I don’t have a pen.

This morning- well, let’s reflect on that a moment.  I almost slept outside last night.  I have a theory, that I could sleep on the pavement right outside the door of my car with my mummy bag and electric blanket.  Usually, you want an insulating layer between the ground and the bag, especially the colder it is. Yet, I think the electric blanket would neutralize that effectively. I was almost going to try it last night, yet I am glad I didn’t.

About seven am I woke to the sound of freezing rain, moist chunks of hail and sleet, a rainy concoction that can only be described as wintery mix- my least favorite form of weather- pelting down across the car. It had already covered the car in a layer of squishy melting ice.  Not believing and not wanting to believe it, I opened the door to reach out and feel for myself.  Wintery mix, small chunks of ice, sleet and hail captured in my hand.

Parked next to the restrooms, I used my urinal anyway, rolled over (that’s a trick I’ve learned in the car,) and went back to sleep until eleven am.  Looked out, and it was over. A cloudy day, yet looking at the pavement, it was already dry.  My wipers cleared a slosh of melting ice the first time I moved the car today, otherwise there was no evidence of the overnight winter storm.

By eleven, it is way too late to take the Vyvanse, it’s got a twelve cycle of uppity that I don’t want going into the wee hours, so I skipped it today. Again.. I’m starting to wonder how many days I’ve skipped it lately, I should add that to my list..

Jal has one Catholic Church here, with an English mass at nine am and a Spanish mass at ten fifteen. I may go to both.

Chatted with my neighbor today. I decided I will not mention that I’m an author.  Ha, life goal accomplished: I’ve made it to the big time. I wonder if I’ve by now written something of consequence?  Back to the topic: mentioning that I am an author of an ongoing adventure blog almost immediately dictates that person will come and read it here.

Isn’t that the point? Well, I don’t know.  When I have the time, I need to write out some reflections of my time in Lake Corpus Christi State Campground.  The stories began to connect and circle- such as the first time the nice gentleman told me about a ten dollar wallet and his less good neighbors. Yet, that wasn’t all.

When I first met Joe, I mentioned I was an author and gave him one of my cards. Yet later, he was included in series of events. Such as after my interaction with the lady with the walker (later, Christine,) and the angry demon. When he had spoken to her, and a few days later her interactions with me had changed significantly- had Joe relayed my story to her?

Did Joe’s insight to this site, change the interactions that I did or could have had with him, Christine, Matthew, or Chris?  Is there a reason we don’t know what is going on inside of everyone else’s mind?  I’m getting thoughts of that Mel Gibson movie, what women want.  Since that doesn’t work and we can’t read minds- what if every person had a site like this?

Would you want your coworker, friend, spouse or your children to write and publish a daily tell all blog where aspects of you would be shared openly.  Would that change your behavior around that person? How? What would you do differently?

Joe- if you’re still reading this- have I affected your view of predestination?

Oh, I am smiling now.  I hope Joe is still reading.

Brandon will not know that I am an author.. unless at some point he discovers it himself.  For that matter, the same shall apply for the remainder of my time in Jal. I’m actually thinking I might stay here. It ticks all the boxes.  Currently free, restrooms (well..) good cell service, and an amazing city park with free rv parking with free electricity and the best part – you know it- that adult play structure. Yet, something has been missing.

Brandon rolled up beside be at some point today.  Both he and I seem to move positions in the park every few hours and we had traded a few head nods today, then like I said at some he rolled up beside me, drivers side window to drivers side window and asked if I smoked.

I nodded and smiled. He clarified, do you smoke pot? I continued to nod and smile while he asked if I wanted to smoke.  At at that time I had still not been able to find my little pipe-

Sidnote: that was when I decided that losing my pen was a problem, when I then lost my pipe.  Yet hours later, I found the pipe.. and even now I have not yet earnestly begun a search for the pen.

Anyway, he asked if I had a pipe to smoke, which I did- my tobacco pipe- as he passed me a bud to put in it. Then we both just sat in our cars and smoked. Each of us with absolutely nothing better to do in the warmth of the day than to park in a public city park smoking legal pot.  According to Brandon, local law deems our vehicles private property, hence making our pot smoking completely legal.

Diminishing and trying not to mention my previous experience, I suggested with still keep it down if the cops rolled by.  Especially, as the city park (the only one.  yes, one.  Just one city park for the whole city- and a real nice park too!) happens to be well used.  Everyday, dozens or more people are walking, jogging, or roller blading the lake lap.  Everyday three or more groups of people (elderly, children) show up to fish in the lake (it’s a manmade lake and kept stocked.)

With all that I told him, it looks like we’re in public and all those people don’t want to be exposed to our legal pot.  He agreed.

Time to go quick, eleven fifty five.

Next we got hungry and I offered up dinner- I had a pair of New York strip steaks in my fridge.  He ran to the store for some potatoe salad, also got some mushrooms and butter.  He built a tarp wall around rv site number six, while I cooked the dinner and we broke bread.

During/after the meal, I asked about showers.  There has to be a local source.  (I hadn’t really looked too hard yet.)

Yes, just a mile and half away a full professional truck stop, with seventeen dollar showers (and worth it!)

And his brother is a truck driver, with unlimited showers on his card?  (details I’m not clear on)

Any how, after dinner I followed him up to the truck stop where he went in and claimed a free to him shower with his brothers discount card? Anyhow, I received a seventeen dollar shower.

Time to rest.



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