The joy of it. An April morning drive to western North Carolina, fussin' over the gradual leaf bud decline especially at higher elevations, sometimes climbing up and over the Spring Line below. Then a night's repose in a sleepy motel dreaming peacefully about tomorrow's vital mission: rise by five am, belly full of breakfast by six, then push easterly into the Nantahala National Forest for my annual rendezvous with the rising sun at the Trillium fields. Dancing sugar plums for my hungry heart, a bubbling tonic for my anxious soul. Will they be out.
Whilst savoring my coffee this particular morning at ten before, two Sheriff's deputies (in short sleeves at 33 degrees outside) strode thru the front door and arrested my waitress. "Put down the food," as they hauled her out and stuffed her into the back seat of the cruiser. After a moment of stunned silence the night waitress screamed, "I'm not gonna work another shift today." The cook screamed, "Why didn't you get her at home last night instead of leaving me short (of staff)." Above the chaos, wondering by now if the butter would melt I screamed, "Where's my waffle!" Eventually, all managed a chortle with a sardonic cough on the side.
Clay County, North Carolina
Saturday 20 April 2007