A Country Boy Can Survive

At 84, Dad still worries about the future.
 

Suna and I went to see my dad this weekend. We drove down to the farm when Suna got off work on Saturday, spent some time chatting, and then took Dad into Victoria for dinner—which he insisted on buying.

We ate at a Texas Roadhouse. Dad and Suna each had a small sirloin, and I had a pork chop. Their steaks were very good. Dad said it was the best steak he had eaten in years, even if it was the only steak he had eaten in years. My pork chop was seasoned as if it were a steak, and the seasoning really didn't work that well. They also brought it out with a dark brown gravy that reminded me of salty ditch water. Luckily, the gravy was on the side.

These sunflowers really are taller than Suna. They’re even taller than me!
 

The roadhouse atmosphere was played to the hilt, and I even got Dad to throw some peanut shells on the floor. That really went against his upbringing. You could see that he was embarrassed but secretly enjoyed it.

After dinner, we drove around Victoria showing Suna the sites. “There’s a car dealership. There’s a car hospital. There’s a used car dealership. There’s another car dealership. Oh, look! There’s another car hospital.”

This morning, Dad had his stomach pain again. He won’t eat at all on days when the pain afflicts him. Luckily, he said it was a very light attack, and we were hoping it would have subsided enough for him to eat dinner.

We sat around talking until we had to leave to check on the kids. One the way out, I snapped a couple of pictures of Suna, Dad, and the farm. The sunflowers shown here are along the fence of a neighboring farm.