I intended to get an oil change done in Colorado Springs, but that didn’t work out (thanks to a sticky drain plug), so I decided to change it myself somewhere along the way. When I mentioned my problem to Scott yesterday, he offered to let me use his tools and to help me as well.
I went to the local hardware store (fittingly named Rural King) and found the supplies I needed; an oil filter and seven quarts of oil. I was going to change the oil myself, but Scott kindly jumped in to help out. I ended up standing around feeling lazy, so I made myself the tool fetcher, moral supporter, and dog watcher. Dog watching proved to be an entertaining job, as Lola spent the entire time racing in tight circles around the yard chasing her ever-elusive tail.
After the successful oil change, I did a few things around the house and picked Aden up from the mechanic’s shop where she dropped her car off to get tuned up. On the way back from the shop, we made an important stop at the Bank. But this was no normal bank, where money is the only thing that is exchanged. This was a Donut Bank – where money is indeed exchanged, but the trade results in the receipt of a donut! The old-fashioned donut I had was wonderful, and Aden enjoyed her cake donut as well.
The rest of the afternoon passed in small tasks I needed to take care of and another trip to the mechanic, where Aden picked up her rejuvenated car. I planned to start driving toward Chicago before the day was over, but I wanted to see Dorothy and her husband, Bob, again before I left. I’d only seen her for a few hours at the family gatherings we’d had on the previous two days. So I arranged to visit with them at their house and then go to dinner with them. At their house, I asked lots of questions about members of my family that I never got to meet. When we went to dinner, we were joined by Laura, Scott, and Aden. We ate at Cheddar’s – a sit-down restaurant that advertises its fresh, “made-from-scratch” food. We all agreed that their onion rings were wonderful, and I enjoyed a country fried steak. Before I knew it, dinner was over and it was time to say goodbye. I will miss Evansville and this vivacious part of my family!
Finally, I left Evansville behind and headed for a rest stop I’d found on the I-70 just west of Terra Haute. I’ve been having problems locating campsites after sunset, so I decided to try a rest stop since there would really be no way to miss it while driving along the Interstate.
I did find the rest stop easily. One point for team Matthew! However, I found a problem as well. There was a nasty sign that said, “NO OVERNIGHT PARKING.” Bummer. That meant I was back to the old “drive around in circles” thing. It turned out well enough this time. I found a what appeared to be a back-woodsy kind of park. I didn’t see any of those nasty signs prohibiting overnight parking in the area, so I pulled into the parking lot and settled in for the night.
It is good to.meet with distant family. Th e world is smaller than we think.