Late last night, I sank gratefully into my bed after a long day. It was a day when people who looked slightly familiar shared stories that both fascinated and tickled me. A day that began with a small town cafe and ended with a roar at the sweetest hometown Drive-in theater (you should just see Jurassic World on that monstrosity of a screen, accompanied by the roars and screams of dinosaurs who are bent on chewing up the idiots who didn't know any better than to create them).
Small town cafe
Oatmeal and raisins at the counter
The entire weekend was a fabulous success, even besides Jurassic World. Somebody showed us the place that proves we came across the prairie on a wagon train. Somebody else told of when their motorcycle had crashed into the wheel well of a Mac truck and how they'd experienced a flat tire during the ambulance drive to the hospital. Another story confirmed what we had all known but didn't have proof of: that our great uncle Henry could 'divine' wells!. How great is that?
Our ancestors were found on the 'Pioneer Steps'
Surrounding us all throughout all of these revelations, were the fields. Wheat fields, mostly, wherever we went. You could not escape them and they made you wish to run through them. Lovely.
How lovely to have come from a spot that looks like this:
And to see people gazing in awe at the most imposing item of the weekend:
Growing up there seemed, today, magical. This view alone made the weekend worth everything we did to get there. A Legacy! with more to come.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
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