Moving on

This weekend I went and enjoyed a bit of nature.  No, really, there was actual pleasure and glee involved.

We went to this swimming hole in the middle-of-nowhere-Texas called Krause Springs.  I figured I was in a rental and it didn't matter how many miles I put on it.

I provided the swimmers with a less than graceful entrance.  I'm sure a few were amused.  My butt got torn up with some road rash where I slid over a less than smooth surface, but I still made it into the water with limited injury.

The water was 68 degrees Fahrenheit, so being flung into it abruptly was a huge shock to my system, but the job of adjusting to the water immediately was far better than the torture of inching my way in one slippery step at a time.

We stayed for a few hours and had a picnic lunch.  I got over my issues with things that live in the water except for a few times when my boyfriend teased me.  When something crawled over my foot I decided I'd had enough.  We ate, drank a beer that was oddly good and refreshing.  Shiner Ruby Red grapefruit beer is surprisingly good.  And that's coming from a non-beer-drinker.

When I got home I didn't see the truck with the guy who slashed up my car and only wondered briefly where he was.  Apparently he's gone now.  I haven't seen the truck since Saturday morning so I hope he was just here to visit.  Regrettably I won't be able to slather his truck with gay rights stickers but that's probably for the best.

I got my car back today and I'm happy to be back in it.  I got to drive a Volkswagen Beetle for 10 days and it was fun and cute and drove really well, but it wasn't my car.  I love my car.  It's not cute and doesn't handle as well, but it's mine.  Life is resuming some degree of normalcy.