Go West, Old Lesbians, Go West!


We left Ponchatoula, Louisiana this morning with clean clothes  and high spirits as Pretty loaded the car with our assortment of suitcases and a gazillion “little things” that defy description and seem to multiply each day. Cheetos, Doritos, pretzels, M&Ms with peanuts, peanut brittle, unnamed chocolate covered almonds, diet cokes, dr. peppers, chewing gum, camera, worthless gps, dog leashes, walking cane; the list goes on and on of the “little things” on the floorboard of the passenger seat that have to be carried to and fro with the suitcases. Yikes. Thank goodness for Pretty.

Atchafalaya National Heritage Area 

a wonderful swamp ride on I-10 between

Baton Rouge and Lafayette, Louisiana

Pretty and I have enjoyed this section of interstate every time we’ve been through it. The images of thousands of dead tree trunks rising  up from the water that stretches as far as the eye can see on both sides of the interstate and even in between the eastbound and westbound lanes of the bridges in some places are breath -taking. Atchafalaya – the name itself is a national treasure. I indulge in wishful thinking that I should have the DNA of  an indigenous person whenever I speak it, although my Ancestry tests prove otherwise.

Lake Charles, Louisiana

(Pretty takes a driving break)

Following an absolutely fabulous lunch of the consistently best fried shrimp on the planet just outside of Lafayette at the Boudin Shop a/k/a Chikin on the Bayou, we continued west on I-10 to Lake Charles and Pretty took an antiquing break. Luckily, she was able to find a few treasures, but Charly and Spike lost a lot of their traveling space in the back seat and weren’t too pleased with their new riding arrangement.

As a matter of fact, we had a harrowing incident with Charly who has been a nervous wreck today in the car for some reason and slipped out of her collar when Pretty let the dogs out for a potty break in Cleveland, Texas at a very busy corner with cars and 18-wheelers whizzing around us. Charly spotted several blackbirds on the ground ahead of her and impolitely shook her collar over her head and ran off. We were horrified and hollered at her to come back – which she did – running joyfully and leaping like the terrier she is. We were not amused. Charly didn’t understand the hoopla. She may have a better understanding since Pretty purchased a new harness for the would-be Houdini.

Aahhh…zzzzz…

Happiness is a king-sized bed at a

pet-friendly La Quinta in Conroe, Texas

So glad to be in Texas once again and have had such a great trip to get here!

 P.S. Pretty just told me the Washington Times reported today that the current DT administration has decided the federal government isn’t interested in identifying the country’s LGBTQ citizens in the 2020 Census. No need to know. Seriously? Not included in the 2020 Census? Pretty and I are a make-believe family? We don’t exist? Well, I never. Shame on you. I’m calling it a night.

 

About Sheila Morris

Sheila Morris is an essayist with humorist tendencies and a passion for photojournalism. She has published four nonfiction books including two memoirs, an essay collection and a collection of her favorite blogs from I'll Call It Like I See It. She has been blogging for seven years as her alter ego, The Red Man, her rescued Welsh terrier but now is reduced to writing as herself since the Red Man left Casa de Canterbury for good in February of 2016. She is a displaced Texan living in South Carolina with her wife Teresa Williams and their dogs Spike and Charly.
This entry was posted in Lesbian Literary, Life, Slice of Life, sports, The Way Life Is and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Go West, Old Lesbians, Go West!

  1. Oh dear Charly, can’t have you taking over from the Red Man on the houdini front 😦

    Liked by 1 person

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