7-1-2023 Lincoln, NE

Apparently, our assignment this Summer was to travel about the country to deliver rain.  And are we ever doing a good job!  We had big plans for Lincoln, NE.  Had, past tense. 

 

Two hand-stitched ~30 ft. long quilts. 
The top of my head came to
 about the first square up.

Yesterday, Rob spent a few hours at the Museum of American Speed.  Since I spent last week end viewing 12,000 cars, I thought that might be enough for now so Rob dropped me off at the International Quilt Museum.  We traded notes at the end of the day, each of us with about a 30% interest in the other subject.  Rob viewed cars, car engines, car toys, pedal cars and memorabilia dating back more than 100 years.  I saw 30-foot long quilts that were installed on walls equally as high, hand-stitched in the mid-1800s.  Each of us had a more interesting day individually than we would have had at the other guy’s venue.

 

1953 Corvette, fuselage #160 out of 300 built.

Engine room.

Vintage pedal cars - did not come
with a GPS or surround sound.

Today, there were 3 points of interest on the menu:  the farmers’ market, space museum and veterans’ memorial park.  We made it to one:  the farmers’ market where we found a wagyu ribeye and sausages from Nebraska cattle.  The friendly rancher drives 300 miles each way every week end to bring his beef to market, lucky for us.  Next, Buzzard Billy’s, a restaurant where southern and Cajun food is served.  Rob’s lunch included catfish, gumbo and jambalaya.  For Lindy, a tsunami (vodka, amaretto, curacao and “a hint of peach”) and fried alligator tail pieces.  This is simple logic.  The more alligators we eat, the fewer of them are out there in the lake trying to do the opposite.  I’m telling you, People!  Eat alligators!  They taste just like chicken!

 

And then it happened.  A red cell thundered overhead and dumped a Niagara Falls-size storm on Lincoln.  We made it back to Noobee just in time to batten down the hatches.  It’s possible that when I ordered up a tsunami for lunch, God thought, “Well, OK, you asked for it!”  So we sit inside, wait and watch, hoping a tornado can’t sweep up a 26,000 pound rv.  But if it can, the question becomes, “How do you make it on foot to the storm shelter (which is usually the bathrooms)?”  Seems like the Midwest rv parks always designate the bathrooms as the storm shelters and it’s usually BYOB.  Also, it is really convenient as odds are you’ll be scared shitless and, by golly, there ya are!

 

The other 2 goals for today will have to wait till we pass this way again.  Tomorrow we are off to North Platte where, hopefully, our annual plans to attend a 4^th of July celebration will also be attended by Mr. Sun!