Crossing Missouri. Swearing off the all-consuming vision of super-highways, we jumped on U.S. 50 near St. Louis. All was well till we decided to get a view of the Missouri River at Jefferson City and one wrong turn later… long-story-short… wound up traversing Missouri on the meandering state road 52. Way to slow down.
We are now in the Flint Hills of eastern Kansas because I was determined to see the preserves of original tallgrass prairie. I read that in the old days, looking out on an expanse of prairie was like looking at the ocean — everything in motion. Wind and tall grass. I’m becoming a romantic about the old West.
But the preserves are waiting till tomorrow. We got as far as the Emporia Best Western and called it a day. Enough of the lure of history. Get me to an Applebee’s and order me a margarita.
St. Louis. We had a whirlwind family visit. The main attraction was our annual family picnic. The weather was fine and more cousins than usual appeared. After hours making the rounds, I still didn’t get to say hi to everyone. Is it a function of getting older that your family means more and more to you?