FUN FIELD TRIP

Mike and I went on an adventure yesterday up in NW Arkansas.  We were in search of the wild granite, and followed directions to find the workplace for a sub named Raphael.  We went out from Bentonville through two tiny obscure towns.  The plan was for us to call Raphael when we got to a certain spot and his brother would come lead us to the shop.  Mike was out stretching his legs when a white pickup slowed and turned into the convenience store.  I waved out the window and the man in the truck waved back with a big smile.  We had found the brother.

When the truck pulled alongside us, the workman was covered in white dust.  It was on his eyelashes and eyebrows and that made him look ghoulish, like those poor people from 9/11 who were covered in ashes.  Then we proceeded to set aside everything our mothers ever told us about strangers, and we followed behind the truck in our car.  After several miles, he turned off the asphalt and we rode on gravel past a pasture full of bison.  We felt like we were in an episode of Rod Sterling's "Twilight Zone".

When the white pickup came to the end of the road, we were totally impressed with the beauty of the countryside.  It is high up there...the sky is much closer to earth.  And the shop had been plopped down in the middle of big woods with trees that had never been cut.  Pristine.  We saw a large outbuilding and things were pretty primitive.  Assorted cars, trucks, and appliances were parked randomly. We waved as several other men looked up to greet us with big smiles. Mike and I go to too many movies, and my thoughts about now were racing ahead to how anyone ever would find our shallow graves in such a remote place.

The minute we opened the car door and stepped out, it smelled strongly like a farm.  My eyes fixed on a goat pen beside the shop and the four-legged residents there were chewing calmly as they troubled themselves to look up at us with no particular interest at all.  It was just another day at the shop.  Granite slabs and slab remnants were out leaning against the trees and my senses were working overtime.  That caused me not to look down until my foot squished something.  On the driveway there were wheat-colored droppings and black droppings.  The rain that day had loosened both of them up, but we decided one was goat food and one wasn't.

We quickly figured out that Raphael (a very nice man who unfortunately was in Branson finishing a job) was the one who conducted business because he spoke the best English.  The brother was working overtime to understand us and believe me...we were doing the same.  But you can point and nod your head and get by pretty well.  We saw a slab we liked and I remembered  "muy bonito" from high school.  We gestured "bullnose" with our hands to order the edge and then our business was done and we returned to the car.

The men all smiled again.  They could relax, the gringos were going.  The goats never looked up.

If you come see us in our new place, be sure to ask which granite was from the Twilight Zone.

"Let the name of God be blessed forever and ever, for wisdom and power belong to Him. It is He who reveals the profound and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and the light dwells with Him." Daniel 2:20,22  (Susan's translation: "When we thought we were outta sight...we weren't.")