What does "Midlothian" sound like to you?
As I sat in that dreary motel room in Hico, I noticed that the way I felt was very similar to how I felt when I was in my van and I didn't want to be. Noticing that was interesting -- I realized that the feeling wasn't as much about the specific circumstances of my van that I'd identified as unpleasant, as it was about being somewhere that I didn't want to be. Hmmmm... something to explore a bit more.
After Hico, I'd planned on stopping in two more small towns in the middle of nowhere to make sure I gave Dallas a wide berth as I headed East. However, after Hico I was not in the mood to be in another small town in the middle of nowhere. The small towns in the middle of nowhere in Texas aren't like Blythe, the little town on the California/Arizona border where I gladly laid low for a few days at a time. Another small city like San Angelo would have been perfect, but I didn't see anything like that on the map where I wanted to go. So I relaxed my criteria about how close I was willing to get to Dallas and headed for Greenville, a somewhat larger small town past the Dallas metropolitan area by about 40 miles. It was close enough to Dallas that I expected it to be more like the suburbs than most Texas small towns are, and I was right.
On the drive from Hico to Greenville, I expected sunshine -- maybe a few clouds. But when I started to approach Midlothian, the sky was dark and ominous to the Southeast. I pulled over to check the weather report and see if there was something unexpected going on that I should know about. But no -- this was not a storm, it was a fog bank rolling across the area. It was unexpected and it made for interesting mood lighting for the Midlothian concrete plants -- giant, looming, industrial edifices. I couldn't pull over to take a photo and I can't find anything online that looks like what I saw. The closest image I can find online is this one:
that I borrowed from this web page: http://www.simhq.com/_air6/air_206a.html Imagine half that scene lit about like that photo and the other half with sun breaking through clouds, creating a sparkling silhouette of the humungous smokestacks and elevators. It looked like a scene from a science fiction movie. That's not the only cement factory in Midlothian -- there are two of them visible in the distance, one on each side of the highway, increasing the feeling I had that I was driving into another world.
It's hard to show in a photo just how gigantic those plants are. I've tried to find height info online and haven't been successful. If you're curious, this image provides more visual cues (freight train, freeway signs):
(borrowed from: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cement_plant_in_Midlothian,_Texas.jpg )
Then there's the name of the town -- Midlothian -- it sounds to me like a dystopian future civilization. By Googling that name, I discovered much to my amazement that it's not the only Midlothian in existence; there's also one in Virginia, one in Maryland, and one in Illinois. So where does that name come from? Another surprise: it's the name of the county in which Edinburgh, Scotland is located, known as Edinburghshire prior to 1890. The word "Midlothian" comes from the Scots Gaelic "Meadhan Lodainnf." I thought that by typing that into Google Translate I might find out what it means in English. Sure enough, according to Google Translate, it translates as "Midlothian." Oh well. 😖😂
On another subject... A couple of days ago in San Angelo, my passenger side door started making a new noise: three loud clicks when either opening or closing the door. I looked but didn't see anything obvious, so I made a mental note to get it checked when I get home. However it kept getting louder and the door kept moving increasingly stiffly. So I took a closer look. By pulling back the rubber covering, I discovered the bracket holding a key piece connecting the door to the van frame was completely missing one of the two nuts holding its two screws in place, and the remaining nut was so loose that it was almost ready to fall off. I hand-tightened the loose nut and the noise went away entirely. I'll get a new nut for the second screw after I get home, and I'll hand-tighten the remaining one every day until then. I also checked the other door, and one of the nuts was starting to loosen -- I finger-tightened that one too.
Speaking of home, my thoughts have started to turn to home and what it will be like when I get there. I left home in a hurry after barely completing some big projects, and while I was still not able to walk very well. Unless the housework fairies have visited while I've been gone, I will be coming home to a Big Mess. What will be next after I get home? I'll have time to think about that while I clean up the mess I left for myself.
Update for clarification: the thing that's loose on my door is not the only thing holding the door on my van -- the loose thing could fall off entirely and the door would still be attached, I just would have trouble opening and closing it. And if that happened, I still have other doors I could use.
After Hico, I'd planned on stopping in two more small towns in the middle of nowhere to make sure I gave Dallas a wide berth as I headed East. However, after Hico I was not in the mood to be in another small town in the middle of nowhere. The small towns in the middle of nowhere in Texas aren't like Blythe, the little town on the California/Arizona border where I gladly laid low for a few days at a time. Another small city like San Angelo would have been perfect, but I didn't see anything like that on the map where I wanted to go. So I relaxed my criteria about how close I was willing to get to Dallas and headed for Greenville, a somewhat larger small town past the Dallas metropolitan area by about 40 miles. It was close enough to Dallas that I expected it to be more like the suburbs than most Texas small towns are, and I was right.
On the drive from Hico to Greenville, I expected sunshine -- maybe a few clouds. But when I started to approach Midlothian, the sky was dark and ominous to the Southeast. I pulled over to check the weather report and see if there was something unexpected going on that I should know about. But no -- this was not a storm, it was a fog bank rolling across the area. It was unexpected and it made for interesting mood lighting for the Midlothian concrete plants -- giant, looming, industrial edifices. I couldn't pull over to take a photo and I can't find anything online that looks like what I saw. The closest image I can find online is this one:
that I borrowed from this web page: http://www.simhq.com/_air6/air_206a.html Imagine half that scene lit about like that photo and the other half with sun breaking through clouds, creating a sparkling silhouette of the humungous smokestacks and elevators. It looked like a scene from a science fiction movie. That's not the only cement factory in Midlothian -- there are two of them visible in the distance, one on each side of the highway, increasing the feeling I had that I was driving into another world.
It's hard to show in a photo just how gigantic those plants are. I've tried to find height info online and haven't been successful. If you're curious, this image provides more visual cues (freight train, freeway signs):
(borrowed from: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cement_plant_in_Midlothian,_Texas.jpg )
Then there's the name of the town -- Midlothian -- it sounds to me like a dystopian future civilization. By Googling that name, I discovered much to my amazement that it's not the only Midlothian in existence; there's also one in Virginia, one in Maryland, and one in Illinois. So where does that name come from? Another surprise: it's the name of the county in which Edinburgh, Scotland is located, known as Edinburghshire prior to 1890. The word "Midlothian" comes from the Scots Gaelic "Meadhan Lodainnf." I thought that by typing that into Google Translate I might find out what it means in English. Sure enough, according to Google Translate, it translates as "Midlothian." Oh well. 😖😂
On another subject... A couple of days ago in San Angelo, my passenger side door started making a new noise: three loud clicks when either opening or closing the door. I looked but didn't see anything obvious, so I made a mental note to get it checked when I get home. However it kept getting louder and the door kept moving increasingly stiffly. So I took a closer look. By pulling back the rubber covering, I discovered the bracket holding a key piece connecting the door to the van frame was completely missing one of the two nuts holding its two screws in place, and the remaining nut was so loose that it was almost ready to fall off. I hand-tightened the loose nut and the noise went away entirely. I'll get a new nut for the second screw after I get home, and I'll hand-tighten the remaining one every day until then. I also checked the other door, and one of the nuts was starting to loosen -- I finger-tightened that one too.
Speaking of home, my thoughts have started to turn to home and what it will be like when I get there. I left home in a hurry after barely completing some big projects, and while I was still not able to walk very well. Unless the housework fairies have visited while I've been gone, I will be coming home to a Big Mess. What will be next after I get home? I'll have time to think about that while I clean up the mess I left for myself.
Update for clarification: the thing that's loose on my door is not the only thing holding the door on my van -- the loose thing could fall off entirely and the door would still be attached, I just would have trouble opening and closing it. And if that happened, I still have other doors I could use.
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