pass the tabasco....

This job has given me my first in depth experience with construction crews.  Their lifestyle is interesting but it's got to be rough.  They move to a job site for a couple of years while their family stays back "home".  They head back for visits but they mostly stay in hotels or travel trailers and send the checks home.  It must be the location of this project but most of the crew here is from Louisiana.  I've become friends with a bunch of them and every time they head home, I ask them to bring me back some gumbo.  A couple of guys have gotten tired of me asking them so they have whipped me up some good Cajun fare.  So far, I've had chicken creole, shrimp gumbo and chicken and sausage gumbo.  A construction buddy is leaving next weak for his next assignment in Edmonton.  He's threatened to make a pot of gumbo while watching Nascar this weekend.  yummy

and the walls came tumbling down....

Since the first part of July, my runs on the country roads were like running down cramped hallways in a building. All I could see on either side of me for miles and miles was a row of corn stalks.  Between last week and today, the farmers of middle Tennessee have been busy.  All of the corn is gone as well as the tobacco.  Tobacco might only get to about 2 ft in height but the fields seem empty without it.  The denuded tobacco fields mean that the tobacco barns are in full smoking / curing mode.  On a cool, calm morning before the sun comes up, the smoke from the barns collects in the valleys.  It makes breathing interesting but it looks really cool.  The empty corn fields were a shock.  All of my walls were gone.  I felt so unprotected - so exposed.  giggle

runner up.....

All of my long runs take place in the countryside to the east of town.  It's all two lane roads and there is very little traffic.  I always run on the left side of the road - facing traffic.  When I do encounter cars, they are really good about moving all of the way into the other lane as they pass me.  I've been pleasantly surprised and I always give them a wave of thanks.
I can't say the same for bikes.  Even if it is a couple of bikes coming my way, it's a game of chicken.  I exaggerate slightly but they seem to enjoy some close time with me as they pass.  I ran this past Saturday and I ran right into the Labor Day Century ride.  Hundreds of riders riding a hundred miles.  A few would shout out "runner up" and move to their left but others enjoyed watching me sidestep into the ditch.  Maybe they were acting out their roid rage.  giggle.