Day 24: Tom's Brook to Charlotte, North Carolina
We are back to our "regularly scheduled programming" for the tour, as McRage pointed out this morning. Over breakfast in the Tour Loaf at the truck stop, there were tired and wry smiles from Magoon, who seems to be feeling emotionally recovered to some extent, if not physically. She did not lose her voice last night in Bel Air, thanks in large part to Miranda and Molhy both singing three originals songs to break up each of our one-hour sets last night's. Relief was in the air this morning.
We completed our morning chores of vacuuming and checking the oil before departing for Charlotte. The ride to Charlotte was uneventful, aside from some concern on the part of the Captain as we rose and then fell in elevation through the Blue Ridge Mountains. We had chosen the widest and straightest highway we were aware of in that direction, however, so I stayed the course unapologetically and fielded his complaints without guilt.
We arrived at our destination at 1845 hours: the home of a friend of Magoon's. Magoon had lived in Charlotte for several years previously, in this very house. Stephanie is a gracious host, and her two small dogs were immediately cordial with the Ugly Bear. They are sweet, adorable dogs advanced in age, and seem not to care whether the Ugly Bear exists at all, as long as they receive the normal amount of cuddles and scratches. They are in fact receiving many more of these than usual, so they are quite content. The smaller, Hayla, appears like a cloud or a miniature extremely adorable sheep with black button eyes, even more so when she sits atop the white puff pillow and white blanket at the corner of Stephanie's sectional. The larger dog is not so much so, but resembles a patchwork quilt or rug in dark grey and white, that moves and sniffs in accordance with the proximity to food or cuddles, but also prefers its space at intervals.
While I took some time in solitude and rest upon our arrival, the Captain cooked a stir fry for the crew and Stephanie. We watched a film to wind down the evening (The Spy Who Dumped Me). I do not remember much else from the night, as I was exhausted and slept early without much socializing. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Day 25: Charlotte, North Carolina
The day was free, slated for chores and mental relaxation, with our show at the Evening Muse at 1930 hours. The Captain cleaned the Tour Loaf and laundered clothes. I chose to spend the day catching up on the journey's documentation for the previous week. Stephanie, able to work from home, chatted with Magoon between tasks, while Magoon rested and fortified herself for the evening's performance. Molhy, normally the most active of the group, did not know what to do with herself on such a leisurely day, with no nearby Planet Fitness nor walkable town to explore. At 1500 hours, preparations slowly began for the show. I heard someone ambling up the stairs with the rhythm of a bipedal animal attempting to be quadruped. "Megan?" I inquired. She had lately explained to me her preference for this form of stair-climbing. To my surprise, it was Molhy, trying out the method of movement herself. She informed me that Magoon was presently seated in the bathtub, in observance of Stephanie's application of makeup. Slightly confused, I clarified whether this meant sitting in the bathtub clothed, or taking a bath, but ultimately required a view of the scene to satisfy my incredulity. S