One of my favorite parts of road trips is seeing iconic signs, logos, and gigantic bits of the past preserved like insect legs in amber chunks washed up on the banks of the Wisla/Vitula River generations ago. The unfavorite part of family travel was carsickness in our family car (a bumpy VW Beetle) and having to throw up in a roadside ditch. Today, thankfully, I can keep the contents of my stomach intact by keeping my eyes on the horizon and avoiding reading (maps for instance).
My parents' favorite gas station to stop in was Mobil with the fascinating, glorious Pegasus logo.
https://www.google.com/search?q=mobile+gas+horse+logo&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=hrrcUb6QE4qo9gTenID4DQ&ved=0CEsQsAQ&biw=1105&bih=539
My mother recorded the price per gallon (usually something like 69 cents), the mile marker on the odometer, our location and destination. This was in a series of tiny notebooks that fit in the plam of her hand. The other things she kept written notes on were recipes in a green tinted spiral notebook, her monthly cycle on a small funeral home (or was it insurance agency?) calendar, short to do lists or what was done lists on the back of envelopes. She said she kept charts of what her babies ate, when they nursed, etc, but she gave that to a sister-in-law and never got those back.
I loved feeling so pleasantly tiny.
But before I sign off a few more flamingo pictures closer to home amidst trumpet vines
and peeking out from behind a chair. xoxoxo.
My parents' favorite gas station to stop in was Mobil with the fascinating, glorious Pegasus logo.
https://www.google.com/search?q=mobile+gas+horse+logo&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=hrrcUb6QE4qo9gTenID4DQ&ved=0CEsQsAQ&biw=1105&bih=539
My mother recorded the price per gallon (usually something like 69 cents), the mile marker on the odometer, our location and destination. This was in a series of tiny notebooks that fit in the plam of her hand. The other things she kept written notes on were recipes in a green tinted spiral notebook, her monthly cycle on a small funeral home (or was it insurance agency?) calendar, short to do lists or what was done lists on the back of envelopes. She said she kept charts of what her babies ate, when they nursed, etc, but she gave that to a sister-in-law and never got those back.
I always got a thrill out of seeing the Sinclair Dinosaur.
This was on the roadside someplace in Wisconsin last fall.
Same thrill and new pang of nostalgia.
Some of the roads from my childhood no longer exist or have been superceded by larger roads,
so it was an unexpected pleasure to catch a glimpse of the familiar green brontosaurus.
Not sure if this fictional brontosaurus has been reclassified as apatosaurus.
The next sighting of a mythical creature deserved a closer look.
I have long been intrigued by flamingos, choosing a beautiful print to go over
the Universal stove in our former kitchen and found pink flamingos elsewhere.
Just the faintest hint of a corner is visible in the link.
I asked my dear husband to pull over to get a closer look.
Let's take a good look all around from every angle.
Aha.
Glorious and pink and massive.
All the way around.
Adjacent pool/playground.
One last look.
But before I sign off a few more flamingo pictures closer to home amidst trumpet vines
and peeking out from behind a chair. xoxoxo.
