A long, long time ago, before brutal winter hit the Deep South, I went for a ride on my new bike. It was one of those days when I meandered around, my only goal being to end up at the golf course at about the same time Hubby finished playing. Barring that, he always leaves the keys in his truck, and I have been known to take his truck and come back for him later. That must be a shock, to come back to where his truck is supposed to be, only to find an empty parking space. I'm glad he doesn't get bent out of shape on those occasions.
My route that day took me past Lawanda the Warrior Princess's house. I thought about riding up her driveway, but it is gravel after all, and my skinny bike tires don't DO gravel. Besides, I knew if I stopped I would want to stay far longer than the 45 minutes I had estimated it would take Hubby to finish his round of golf. And there was a car in the driveway that I didn't recognize, but I assumed it belonged to LWP's son's girlfriend. As it turned out it was a rental car driven by a scout from a Major League Baseball team, and boy am I glad I didn't just ride up in the yard and knock on the door. I would have been very, very embarrassed. LWP too, though she likely would never have admitted it.
That has nothing to do with this story.
LWP lives on the outskirts of a community known fondly as "Struggleville USA." It was given that nickname by a man who lived in the community and ran a small store, one of those country gathering places with a "Liar's Bench" outside. (But not the same little country store with a Liar's Bench of which I posted a photo a few weeks ago, also associated with a bicycle ride.) The man deemed himself the Mayor of Struggleville, and he became well known in the local media. He did in fact have some major political fund raisers at his place in Struggleville, a little ..... shack .... known as Jack's Shack. This man even became a Justice of the Peace, whatever that means, and for a while he could actually perform marriage ceremonies. You have to picture this burly, mountain-man looking person, usually sporting overalls (what else?) and talking much too loudly.
I've been through Struggleville a million times. I lived near there myself in a previous wifetime. On the day I thankfully DIDN'T ride up LWP's driveway, however, I noticed something I hadn't seen before. (Click on image to enlarge.)
I always thought the name Struggleville had something to do with making it through hard times, the difficulties of earning a dollar, or living in a small town in rural Georgia and trying to get your name on the map somewhere.
No, it seems the struggles alluded to have a lot more to do with spelling.
In the sign above, just around the corner from the first one, the name is spelled correctly. Wouldn't you think someone would notice that the two signs are different? The Mayor and his wife have both died in the past few years, but wouldn't you think their offspring would correct the signs? Or .... oh, I don't know .... TAKE THEM DOWN?
Before that ride, Rozmo and I rode one day, and she spotted these baby miniature horses in a field not too far from my house. (I also mentioned these horses in an earlier post. This is when they were REALLY cute.) We parked our bikes and I hurried to get my iPhone out so I could snap a picture before the baby ran away.
He was just as curious about us. I think I saw him getting his little iPhone out of HIS pocket. Oh wait ... he didn't have a pocket that day.
I still expected him to get spooked and run away, so I wanted to take as many pictures as possible before he left. I felt a little guilty that he obviously thought we might have treats like apples or something. I don't think he would have liked Gatorade too much.
I believe he wanted to try out my bike.