It has been a long, hot summer here in Memphis, but at least, there has been rain. Missouri is still so dry. A person on the radio made the comment the other day that to catch up, Missouri would need a foot of rain. That was in the boot heel, down around Cape Girardeau.
I've become accustomed to the drive up I-55, which runs north to south, St. Louis to Memphis. I've become accustomed to the radio stations, the Ag reports. There is a small store off Exit 80 which sells freshly picked corn, home-baked goods and ice-cream. The corn is excellent, sweet and good, you can eat it raw.
Dylan was back for a month this summer and so, I drove back to Columbia as often as I could to see him, to hang out, sleeping on friends couches and in guest bedrooms, going to Ragtag, to Sparky's, to Lakota, to Ernie's. Haunting the library, wandering the shelves, checking out books and looking for all intent like a homeless person who gathers their books around them, using their backpack as a pillow and accidentally napping in public, on a couch, in the library. Which, if you must know, are really not that clean....
|Dylan and Elliot on 9th Street|