Pippin wanted to get on the couch but the cats have trained him too well. Rather than contend with the four pound kitten he squeezed himself into corner, trying to hide in the folds of that faux sheepskin blanket. That’s Arya on the floor. She actually likes sleeping on rugs better than the couch.
Today I went to a town twenty miles north of here to get the oil changed on the Family Truckster. It’s an old Farmers Union gas station, now part of a bigger regional cooperative. But it still has that small town feel. Because of the oil boom their business is better than ever. The store is stocked better than some suburban hardware stores and they sell cases upon cases of energy drinks. But I can sit in the back, close my eyes, and picture my dad or uncle up at the counter, getting a belt for the combine or just talking farming. The old days are fading but there’s still plenty of touchstones if you know where to look.