Six-thirty p.m. is a quiet time here at the roadhouse. There are a couple of guys sitting out on the patio eating mushroom swiss burgers. I am expecting my two regular coffee customers to wander in momentarily (the only guys that buy coffee in the afternoon). I've been scrubbing the woodwork around the doorways but it still looks bad. The cook is taking a little siesta so he can be ready for the clean up.

The big gossip here this afternoon is the jeep roll over just across the county line. The thing was crushed, but miraculously no one got hurt. The State Police have been there about an hour and a half, waiting for the tow truck. I found out recently that the St. Police don't call the closest wrecker but rather they have a strict rotation on a list. So the tow bill could be a lot bigger than it needs to be if they call someone across the county.

We had a baby in here this afternoon. You know I was glad that I scrubbed that highchair the other day! It was a clean little baby and I would have been so embarrassed to put it into a grubby highchair.

Last night we were getting ready to leave and darn if the little top of my battery didn't pop off. Had to push start my truck. It's a lonely feeling out here when you think you might be stranded.

Gotta go... time to clean up.