Sunday Drives

Do you remember when you were a
kid and your folks went on a Sunday
drive? That is where the saying came
from... dang Sunday Drivers!!....

We use to go for drives on Sunday.
I think it was mostly to give Mom a
break, as she rarely came with us.

Also I think it was Dad's way of keeping
up with what was going on around town or
neighboring towns. What buildings that
were going up, or who's hay was cut
early and such stuff. My favorite was
the airport, where we watch as planes
flew off and landed. That was in the 40's
and 50's.

I took the King for a drive yesterday.
It was a way for him to look and not
drive me crazy. Usually he drives and
looks. I like it only when his eyes are
on the road.

So we took a ride down on one side
of the river to Priest River. Then up and
down the streets of the town of Priest River,
and out the highway towards Priest Lake
for about a mile and back. Then crossed over
Merritt's Bridge, making a mental note
to try out the Prime Rib at the Feed
Store on some Friday night. (it was
a feed store when we use to live in
Vay and did all our business in Priest
River).

Then we headed out Dufort Road to
Spirit Lake Cutacross Road, where I
use to live. Out to see if they sold a
house that belonged to a deceased
friend of ours. And no, they haven't.

Then back towards Vay, and stopped
to see if our friend, who is a truck driver,
was home... and he was. Let Misty out
to run to her hearts content, while we
visited.

Back on the road to home, and across
Long Bridge. With the King marveling at
the new houses up on the hill. In fact, that
was the subject of the day. New houses.

Everywhere. In fields, that once were where
he worked cattle with friends. Up on hills
that once where covered with trees. In wooded
areas where he and my deceased husband use
to hunt deer. At a large farm that he worked for
as a kid, on the river front being cut up to house
lots. New houses, everywhere. And us
wondering which farm would fall next.