I’m pleased to report that arrived back at Farther Along Farm without incident. Not that there weren’t plenty of incidents, but none kept us from arriving home safely.

We left in good time. Saw the big digger at the edge of the cotton field as soon as we turned onto the road. As we approached, we could see that we were not going to proceed forward. The big digger was digging a big hole right in the middle of the road on top of a culvert. Someone motioned us ahead, and we rolled down our windows. It was our County Supervisor and friend, Pat. He could have it passable in 10 minutes. No no. We’ll go the back way. And then of course the obligatory chat about the burn piles, the fixing of our road, the fact that AT&T’s phone cable was not buried deep enough and had been ripped out. (Upside: no robo calls!)

We backed up about 1/4 mile (good practice), turned around and had a discussion about which alternative route to take. I suggested the known route that would take five minutes longer than going the regular way. Mr. Big Food suggested something different that he thought would take us quite a bit further down the line. So we did it his way.

Just about the time we transitioned from pavement to gravel, he lost service. So– and on account of the fact that we had stupidly not put the topo map back in the truck– we were flying on memories of gravel roads where there is not a powerline in sight. At some point, we agreed that perhaps the known route would have been a better choice, but such is life.

Thirty-five (35) minutes, and several miles of scenic rural Mississippi gravel roads later, we wound up at a location about 10 minutes from the Farm.

We will not dwell on this.

The leg from that location to The Burbs was relatively uneventful other than to note the amazing amount of water around Coldwater, MS.

And then. The Burbs. We’re talking about Goodman Rd. in Southaven, Mississippi. Good Lord! How do you people live like this? Can this even be called “living?”

Settled on Waffle House for lunch. (That did not go well but it’s not a story I’m inclined to tell.) Then a quick maneuver across five lanes of traffic to get to the K-roger. Hum. The Kroger has no Gulf lump crab meat.

Tomorrow is the Preakness. Mr. Big Food looks forward every year to having classic Kentucky food on Derby Day, Maryland food on Preakness Day, and I don’t know what (Elmont, NY??) on Belmont Day. Come hell or high water he is making crab cakes today!

Just enough time to do one of the errands before the appointment. The nearest branch of our bank was conveniently only about one mile away, and on route to the appointment. Print my name on the check? How is it this Southaven branch has different rules than the Starkville branch? Whatev. Stupid.

Work our way up Goodman Road– at lunch hour! Strip mall. Strip mall. Stop & Rob. Strip mall. Liquor store. Mattress store. Stop & Rob… . How do you people live like this?

Arrive at destination. “Hum. Pretty empty. Maybe we’ll just sail on through and be outta here,” Mr. Big Food says. Walk up to door. See sign. “We’ve moved!” Look up location on phone. [INSERT MULTIPLE EXPLETIVES] I kid you not, next to the [EXPLETIVE] bank. So back down Goodman Rd. we go.

Drop Mr. Big Food off. Sit in parking lot searching for Gulf lump crab meat. Best I could come up with without going into actual [EXPLETIVE] Memphis– because if you think Southaven stinks, you should go to Memphis proper– was a meat market in Oxford that would special order it and it would be in Thursday. Thanks. So went to gas station to fill up then back to the office building that’s next to the bank.

That wasn’t too awfully bad. We’ve known this guy for a long time so we chatted about Romania and Northwestern University. Stopped at a different K-roger on the way out to buy not Gulf lump meat crab. Then the back way home– past the beer, bait & ammo joint that’s still there after all these years! Right over the county line it is!

Stopped at the Mom & Pop garden shop on Hwy. 8 to pick up a few more tomatoes and peppers. So all’s well that ends well!

But I ask again, how do you people live like this?