Fitting in...

We had a memorable lunch the other day at the Grapevine Restaurant. We went to town to get a treadmill for R (I have permission to kill him if he is not using it 6 months down the road) and we got hungry and so that's where we stopped. The Grapevine is an elegant little restaurant that's part of a gourmet wine shop in a strip mall (of all places) next to a Dollar General store. The food is expensive for this area, and excellent. The soup of the day was asparagus chowder and it was served in gorgeous hand-painted bowl. Asparagus chowder! Only one other man was in the restaurant besides R, all the rest of the patrons (12 or so?) were elderly, high-society type women. Elegantly dressed with hair perfectly coiffed and colored. The sort of women who are in charge of women's organizations and charitable service groups and have bridge parties. And there we sat, R in his ratty old bib overalls and me in my dark blue "Tigger" T-shirt, looking like we had just wandered in off the farm, which I guess we did, in a way. In any event, we stuck out like a sore thumb. We thought it was rather funny. "You notice anything about the other people in here?" he observed. Yes, I did. Well, "I guess our money is as good as theirs," I was heard to comment. And it was. One of N’s friends commented to him that “Your mom and dad must be doing OK, but they look like they don’t have a pot to piss in.” We just grinned when he told us that. We are doing OK, as a matter fact, as God gives grace for each day!