Housebroken

We’ve been in our house now for just about three months. A couple of friends from Houston have slept under our roof—the first week we were here Ben flew up to help Wayne install cabinets, a sink, door, lights, etc. And neighbors from Houston stayed two nights as they passed through Missouri en route to their annual summer vacation in Wisconsin. But it was only this week, when Ben came back with Maggie for a few days followed by a visit from my parents, that our new house began to feel like home. Dad mastered the satellite remote and found a favorite place to perch while watching golf, Mom learned where the coffee is kept and Maggie which way to head for her outdoor strolls. And Ben got to enjoy the fruit of his labor.

They met our new neighbors around a big bonfire lit by the moon and its reflection on the pond, not a bad way to start relationships. The folks in town welcomed them at our new General Store, Rocheport’s answer to Mayberry with a twist of Northern Exposure, where we had coffee and dessert after a lovely dinner on the back deck, the long, simmering days relenting, allowing us the sunset.

My planned birthday ride on the Katy Trail became a no go when we woke up to the rumble of thunder. It was just as well since a week later the Huggins were able to join us on our first ride from Rocheport to Columbia and it was a good fifteen degrees cooler than the week before. The trail from Rocheport featured a placid river on one side and steep wooded bluffs rising on the other. About halfway through our ride, we took a left away from the river and rode the rest of the way through open fields and meadows, over creeks and forests. The path at one point wound around the massive lagoons of a wastewater treatment facility. Hmmm. A dusty barnyard scattered with goats and chickens seemed a good place to stop for water and there we ended up chatting with an older British couple who were drive/biking from Virginia to Oregon. But for a few other passersby, we had the trail to ourselves. We arrived in Columbia after about a two hour ride and replenished ourselves with wraps at Artisan before we somehow crammed four bikes into our vehicle, new veterans of the trail, headed with old amigos to a place starting to feel very much like home.