Friday, August 10, 2012

Ruthie On The Road, Update



-A LARGE BLISTER HAS FORMED ON THE BOTTOM OF MY FOOT
AND, FOR THE PAST FEW DAYS, HAS MADE WALKING RATHER
PAINFUL-
-ALL PHOTOS BY RUTH RADER-



I've tried everything: Aloe Vera, antibiotic cream, a poultice and a salve. But the nasty blister that formed on the bottom of my foot, the other day, is just refusing to heal.

Well, I now think that the salve (created by "Dr. Dawn") is actually beginning to work...somewhat. I don't know what she put in the salve but my tender, swollen and partly-infected skin is finally starting to respond.

And not a minute too soon...because I have to get back on the road, today.

I may have to deal with thunderstorms when I cross into Ohio. But I guess that's how this freaky Friday is going to roll.

__________________

After enjoying a day of rest in Silver Creek, New York I hitchhiked to the small-town city of Westfield, New York. A nice lady met me on the sidewalk and invited me back to her house. I met her husband and several cats. Her husband lit a fire and added some magic to the wood that soon turned the flames into multi-colored tongues of neon.



Later, we all walked into the house and went to bed. The next day, the kind couple took me over to see an old lighthouse that was built back in 1821.




The Barcelona Light House, which was built in 1829, still stands on a hill above Lake Erie.



-I POINTED MY CAMERA INTO A SMALL PEEPHOLE AT THE BASE
  OF THE TOWER AND CAUGHT THIS IMAGE OF THE INSIDE OF
THE LIGHTHOUSE-

And I also took a little time to stroll around the beach and take some photos of the lake, itself.



And then we all got back into the car and followed the dividing lines of highway 20 to the end of town. I got out there, sat down on a guardrail and waved goodbye to my new friends.

The day began so nicely...smiles, a good shower, a great breakfast and a little fun at the beach. When my friends drove away, I had no idea just how rough that day would turn out to be.

I tipped back my first bottle of Poland (brand) spring water and waited for the ride that I was so sure would come in a short amount of time. The sun followed a high curve in the sky and after awhile, I was still sitting there cursing the twelve-o'clock heat on my neck.

Finally someone stopped. And the rides continued until I reached the useless community of Wattsburg, Pennsylvania.

And Wattsburg is the rural home of some very ugly Americans.

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