I touched up the paint on the world most of the day, spreading the acrylic thick to act as a tread. The day was perfect for it, a bright sun and a cool stiff breeze to dry it fast but not cook it and clump the thick paint as I tended to the chore. The twenty mile per hour gusts from the north would have made for a battle had I walked this day, and would have surely frayed the cloth even more without this maintenance. Thousands of miles for a painted ball takes care. All over it's surface are the signs of wear, patches and scuffs.
I spoke to just a few people during the day, those who came up to me as I sprussed up the planet close to the road in the outer parking lot at Wal-mart. A man who had seen us walking the day before, he worked next door and told me of his grandfather who was diabetic. A woman reporter who was informed about me by the man. A gentleman who watched as I sailed by his house the previous day when I walked into North Carolina. He had words about people spending too much time in front of a screen playing games when they should be exercising. A woman with her daughter rolled up in their car and I told them my simple message, walk with the one you love. I joked to the daughter that she didn't want to be like me and walk around the country saying she missed her Mom. Later I got a thankful message from the Mother, her daughter was insisting they walk together.
I, I just can't write any more right now. My eyes are clouding up...Call me John Baynor.