Sunday morning. It’s busier today than any other day. I thought I was prepared. Enough eggs beaten, pancakes mixed, bacon and potatoes fried all beforehand to prepare for the crowds. And then the onslaught. It didn’t wait for church to be over, it started as soon as the doors opened at 8. I looked up from the grill and there hung 14 orders awaiting my attention. And then I glanced over my shoulder, I saw the line extend from the counter, out towards the door and down the steps. This was going to be non-stop for awhile. The next time I turned around to see that every order was addressed and no slips hung before me it was 10:30. But this is the way of the cafe. There is no consistency or humming along. There is either no one or they come in droves. I love the droves. I need the rush. It exhiliarates me to have so many want their cuisine in such a short time. It’s a contest. And I’m winning so far. It made the day just fly by and 2 o’clock came quickly. Back to the RV for some R&R. Robin needed it as she ran her feet off. Me, I still needed to think. Time for a bike ride. I began touring the county and made it to Route 30, the Lincoln Highway, just outside of Coatsville. It wasn’t three minutes heading west that I encountered the revolving red lights carrying the paramedics. I immediately thought about giving up the bike. There in front of my eyes he lay. Lifeflight hovering over the treetops. Photos will remain from view to give some sense of decency to the victim. I just want to point out to you brethren riders that we need to be extremely careful out there. By 6:30 I had just garaged the bike in the trailer and headed out on my golf cart to the other side of the grounds. I had heard a mother skunk had four little ones following her and I was checking for photo ops. Going no more than past the office I encountered Cheryl coming my way. We paused to exchange pleasantries. She had an invite in mind. In ten minutes I was back with Robin heading to the site of Cheryl and Jerry. She had tempted me with homemade blueberry pie a la mode. And you know me. I would rather have pie than food. Cheryl works as the meter reader, manning the front gate and a few other things. Jerry , well he fixes everything. And if it’s not broke, he’s maintaining it. Jerry is the maintenance emperor. Everyone in the park knows him by name. We have a connection with them via North Carolina along with some commonalities by way of public education. But the pie was not the real reason our visit was so pleasant. Its just that these two are such congenial and unassuming souls. The more people I meet here, the more I find how genuine my colleagues seem to be. By the time our visit ended, we needed the headlights on the golf cart. How entertained I was today.