Here is where you should be seeing a picture of all the peaches.
SHOULD being the operative word here, because even though the interwebs told me that the place with all the peaches was open—lo and behold—a visit to said location proved otherwise.
Zero for one.
And then when we found another place, again on the interwebs, which told
us that they had all the peaches and lots of other things.
So we went to stop at a little boutiquey place we had passed, one that was right down the street from where the other place should be, but it turns out that boutique wasn't open today.
Zero for two.
And then it turns out that the other place with all the peaches wasn't where we thought it might be and it turns out it was pretty much down the street from the first place with all the peaches. But we had driven so far in the other direction, we decided to go another route in order to get there.
Only, we couldn't really get there from here, if you know what I mean. There was the rutted gravel road. The dead ends. The unmarked streets. The giant chasm that lay where you would think the streets would be but the North Canadian River was there instead.
So we get to that place that's supposed to have all the peaches and it looks like it had been deserted for a few years. A gentleman in a pickup truck advised us that they had no produce this year (the interwebs have failed us again!) and he recommended another place.
Yeah, the first place we tried.
Zero for three.
Instead, we went to lunch, got us some burgers and fries and chicken and tots from a little local dive joint that was recently featured in the news as a place in danger of closing. Judging by the lines at the place and the quality of the food? The word has gotten out.
This Monday was saved by an onion cheeseburger shared with friends.