Ha!  I knew that would get your attention.  So enjoying a glass of wine and a very handsome 36-ish guy sits next to me, and turns out he’s not looking for a mother figure – he’s flirting audaciously with me.  I kept trying to tell him I was too old for him, but he persisted.

Okay, so it was a dream.  My question is this:  Why is it that in my dreams the men are never age appropriate?  Just wondering.

So when I left you, I was running low on gas and patience with the backroads and byways – no gas stations in any of the towns, shuttered businesses everywhere. One thing I have noticed on my journey is that the only business that seems to be attracting a clientele are the Dollar Stores. Kind of a sad commentary on the state of heartland America.

I managed to make my way through Arkansas just enjoying the varied scenery, the lakes, and the fact that I had a full tank of gas! I must have skipped lunch, as I was delighted to see a road sign for a winery which also served dinner. Headed straight for it, past what seemed like miles and miles of vineyards until I found the most charming little imitation of a German/Swiss village. The wine was excellent, and the dinner amazing. If you follow FB, you may even have been part of my little contest to identify my whereabouts using the name of a vineyard: Chateau Aux Arc….. Trust a court reporter to win by seeing that I was if not in the Ozarks, at least very near a town called Ozark.

I wonder where I slept that night, but already I can’t remember. Know it can’t have been far, as I must have been sleepy from dinner and the wine. Sadly the 36-year-old was nowhere to be found.