Journal: Visit to Missouri Star Quilt Company

 

Last Tuesday morning found us getting ready to go to LensCrafters in Lincoln, where I had an appointment with the eye doctor and hoped to get two or three new pairs of glasses.

After the eye appointment, we planned to head to Carthage, Missouri, to pick up a Therma King ac/heating unit for the sleeper in Larry’s truck.  The next day we would go to Hamilton, Missouri, to visit Missouri Star Quilt Company.  

“Let’s hope we don’t wind up in a herd of stormchasers hot on the heels of a tornado!” I remarked to Larry, after seeing questionable weather predicted in that vicinity.

I hit the hay a little earlier than usual Monday night, in anticipation of all this.

“New glasses coming!  I’m a-gonna be sooooo cute,” I wrote to some friends.

Or at least that’s what I thought, until I got a phone call from LensCrafters at 8:39 a.m.

After that, we didn’t need to hurry to get to Lincoln anymore, as the doctor himself had to have an emergency procedure, so his appointments for the day were canceled.  I now have a new appointment for this coming Thursday, May 7.  We were still going to Carthage, though.

By midafternoon, we were traveling along the east side of Kansas, the Missouri River on the east, and the Glacial Hills on the west.  According to the University of Kansas, the Glacial Hills Scenic Byway is a 63-mile route in northeastern Kansas running from Leavenworth to White Cloud, officially designated in 2003.  It parallels the Missouri River, featuring dramatic rolling hills, wooded bluffs, and steep valleys carved by glaciers.  The route passes through historic towns including Atchison and Troy, offering scenic views and rich pioneer history.

A few paragraphs from their webpage:

“When Lewis and Clark set out on their Corps of Discovery Expedition in May 1804, their route took them up the Missouri River along what is now the jagged northeastern corner of Kansas.  When they stopped at the mouth of a creek that flowed into the river from what is now northeastern Kansas, William Clark wrote (with his spelling, capitalization, and punctuation):

“‘pass a Creek on the L. S. about 15 yards wide cuming out of an extensive Prarie as this Creek has no name, and this day is the 4th of July, we name this Independence us. [U.S.] Creek. . . We Camped in the plain one of the most butifull Plains, I ever Saw, open & butifully diversified with hills & vallies all presenting themselves to the river covered with grass and a few scattering trees a handsom Creek meandering thro at this place the Kansaw Inds. formerly lived and had a verry large Town’

“For views of the hills and valleys Lewis and Clark saw, today’s travelers can take the dry-land route along Kansas Highway 7 that provides scenic views of the Missouri River and loess hills carved out of vast glacial deposits.

“South to north along K-7, vistas of the Missouri can be found at Leavenworth, Atchison, and around White Cloud — just south of where the highway ends at the Nebraska border.

“Stretching 2,533 miles, the Missouri is the longest river in North America.  That’s 200 miles longer than the Mississippi River.  The Missouri also drains 530,000 square miles, which means all the water in streams and rivers in a broad area from Glacier National Park in Montana to St. Louis, Missouri — including northern Kansas — is headed toward the Missouri River.”

In Fort Scott, Kansas, we drove through the historic part of town.  Since the visitors’ center and all the historical buildings closed at 4:30 p.m., we were out of luck, as it was a little after 7:00 p.m. when we got there.

The fort was named after General Winfield Scott, who achieved renown during the Mexican–American War.  During the middle of the 19^th century, the fort served as a military base for U.S. Army action in what was the edge of settled country in 1850.  For the next quarter century, it was used as a supply base and to provide security in turbulent areas during the opening of the West to settlement, a period which included Bleeding Kansas and the American Civil War.

‘Bleeding Kansas’ (1854–1861) was a period of violent guerrilla warfare and political turmoil in the Kansas Territory.  It resulted from the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which allowed settlers to decide if the state would allow slavery (‘popular sovereignty’), though Kansas and Nebraska were primarily anti-slavery.  Conflict broke out between pro-slavery forces (often from Missouri) and anti-slavery Free-Staters, marking a prelude to the Civil War.

The old part of town doesn’t look so old, what with all them thar new-fangled horseless carriages, does it?

At the southeastern corner of Kansas, we crossed into Missouri, and soon arrived at our motel in Carthage, Missouri, just northeast of Joplin.

There were severe thunderstorms and tornadoes to the south, but they were moving east and northeast, and were out of the area before we got there.  The weather made for some interesting skies, though.

We ate supper at El Patron, an authentic Mexican Grill in Pittsburgh, Kansas. 

They brought us iced tea, hot corn chips, and chunky salsa to snack on while we waited for our entrées.

I ordered Mexican chicken rice soup and what I thought was one, possibly two, beef fajita softshell tacos.

What I got was two full dinners, each one consisting of a whole lot more food than the likes of me could ever eat.  The young Mexican waiter laughed when I turned and stared at him in amazement.

On one big platter, there were four – four! – large, stuffed tacos, rice, and smooth, creamy frijoles refritos (refried beans).  On the other large tray was a bowl of soup, rice, some sort of chips that looked like French fries but tasted like a kind of corn chips, and a lettuce salad with mashed avocado on top.

I tasted a taco.  Yummy.

I tasted the soup.  Oh, yum, scrumptious!  It had big pieces of chicken in it, rice, a spicy, tasteful broth, chunks of avocado, a few diced onions, green and red pepper slivers, and some tasty vegetables that I could not recognize.  Now, that was the yummiest soup I have ever had, I do believe.  I ate half of the soup, part of the salad, a bit of the rice, some of the refried beans, a couple bites of taco – and that was all. 

Larry ordered an enchilada, and it arrived on one of those same large platters.  It was huge.

When we had eaten as much as we wanted (or could, for that matter), we asked for Styrofoam boxes so we could take the rest with us.

Whew, was I ever full!

And then Larry ordered dessert.  🙄

He ordered ... hmmm ... I think it was an apple empanada.  It had chocolate and a bit of caramel drizzled over it, along with a generous mound of fresh whipping cream on top.  We shared it, full though I was.

Here’s what it looked like. ⇧

Well, ahem, ... I forgot to take a picture until after we polished it off. 

It was approaching closing time when we finished.  We were the last ones in the restaurant.

Thirty-five minutes later, we were checking into our motel room.  The name of the motel online is ‘Precious Hotel’, creating some confusion when our GPS directed us to a motel with a sign labeling it as ‘Quality Motel’.

Wondering what the ‘precious’ was all about, I looked it up online, and learned that Carthage, Missouri, is the home of the Precious Moments Company.  The motel has Precious Moments paintings in the rooms and hallways, and there are numerous curio cabinets throughout the building featuring Precious Moments figurines.

I’m indifferent to the Precious Moments figurines; I chose the motel because it was the cheapest in town.  Some of the reviews were bad, but there are always bad reviews.  People are often more inclined to write a bad review than a good one; if things are good, they write nothing at all.  The pictures looked nice.  I reserved a room.

When we walked into the lobby, I was quite surprised.  It was beautiful, with a grand curving stairway leading up to the second floor where, the young woman at the front desk told us, the breakfast nook was just beyond the large balcony.

When we opened the door to our room and began carrying our things in, I was glad I had not paid attention to the bad reviews.  It was a large and lovely room – one of the nicest we’ve stayed in.  And it cost only $67, through Booking.com. 

The room had a refrigerator; we put our leftovers in it.  The next day would be chilly, so the food would be fine in the insulated lunch bag we’d brought along, and there was more than enough for another supper. 

Dark, strange, motel rooms, nice though they might be, have their drawbacks.  In the middle of the night, I got up and went into the restroom, trying to be quiet so as not to awaken Larry.  I came back out, turned the corner – and ran BLAP into the mirror that hangs on the wall there. 

That wall hadn’t been there the previous night!

The person in the mirror was just as surprised as I was.

The next morning, I showered, wound up boiling hot, as usual, and went to turn the air conditioner on.  Where was Larry?  The room was empty.

Having run out of cold brew or iced tea, and not wanting the Celsius or Zipfizz or V8 Energy drink we had with us, along with a five-gallon Thermos of our own well water, I made some coffee in the cute little motel room coffee machine.

Yuck.  I needed a fork to eat it with.  Plus, it made me all the hotter, especially under the collar after I burned my tongue. 

I went to open the window, but it wasn’t made to open.  It looked like someone had either tried anyway, or gotten downright irate upon discovering they couldn’t open it, given it a good whack, and cracked the heavy glass in a diagonal curve right through the largest of the big panes.

I finished curling my hair, picked up my comb – and discovered it had gone straight again in the back.  Even my hair doesn’t like being too hot.

Seeing a notice on the inside of the bathroom door, I paused to read it – and found that the room’s regular price was $210!!  Wow, we got a good deal.

I finally got my hair into some semblance of order, gave it a light spray, and went off to see what was for breakfast. 

Larry wasn’t back yet.  I figured he must’ve gone to collect his Therma King air conditioner/heating unit – and I was right.  He thought he’d told me.  I think he didn’t.  We have no witnesses, so we can’t take it to court.  (Have to admit, it was an easy conclusion to come to.)

He was too late for breakfast, but he’d grabbed a banana nut muffin before he left, and we had croissants, cheese, and yogurt with us.  In any case, we would soon be stopping for fuel, and truck stops and convenience stores are never short on food (though it’s not necessarily healthful).  He didn’t starve.

A week or so ago, I downloaded the Merlin Bird ID app from Cornell onto my tablet.  That morning, hearing an unknown bird in the nearby woods while we were reloading the pickup, I used my tablet to learn that the bird I was hearing but couldn’t see was a Northern waterthrush.

It offered me this picture, too.  I’ve never even heard of this bird, let alone seen one.

The app also identified an American Robin, an American crow, a Baltimore oriole, and a Carolina wren.  I hadn’t figured out the last two yet.  We have Baltimore orioles, but this one was singing a different tune than ours do.

Here’s the Carolina wren.

We were soon headed to Missouri Star Quilting Company at Hamilton, Missouri, 239 miles to the north.  (I just looked it up, and was informed, along with the mileage, “This route includes a highway.”  {shocked face})

We chose routes that would take us to some of the lakes and state parks along the way, including Stockton Reservoir and State Park, where we hiked around one small branch of that big lake.

The reservoir covers 39 square miles, with 298 miles of shoreline.  It has three marinas.

That afternoon, Victoria sent me audio clips of Willie singing Jesus Loves Me – except he got it mixed up with The Wise Man Built His House Upon A Rock, The Foolish Man Built His House Upon The Sand – and at the end, he sang, “Yes, Jesus loves me! – and the book fell flat!”

Hee hee  He’s such a funny little boy.

As we traveled north, my GPS informed us that there was flooding ahead.  It wasn’t long before we saw it for ourselves.

Hamilton, a town with a population of just 1,755, has no motels.  There are a number of homes and rooms for rent, bed and breakfast inns, and Airbnbs, but no motels.  As we drove, I found a motel in Cameron, 14 miles to the west, for a good price, and reserved a room.

These photos were taken at Wallace State Park.

When we arrived at the motel in Cameron, we were given a key (an old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness key) and pointed toward the right room.

It was a big, pretty room on the end of the motel, where the front corner is maybe 120°, making that room large and uniquely shaped.

Problem:  It smelled like cigarette smoke.

It didn’t seem too awful, at first inhale, and there were two windows in the room; so we thought we could air it out a bit and everything would be fine.

Problem No. 2:  The windows had been thoroughly painted shut, and there would be no opening them.

The odor of smoke seemed to thicken, even though we had the front door wide open.  We stopped with the bringing-in of bags, and Larry went to ask the manager if he might have another room for us.

He did.  It, too, was roomy, though not quite as big as the first.  It looked to have been remodeled less long ago than the first room.  Master craftsmen, the remodelers were not; but for under $80 at a location not far from Kansas City, it was fine.  It smelled all right and looked clean.

We carried our things in, then went to Walmart for grapes, strawberries, bananas, tomatoes, lettuce, rice pudding, and yogurt drinks, some of which we had with our warmed-up leftovers from the previous night’s supper.  Larry got a basketball, too, in hopes of finding a hoop in a park somewhere.

Back at the motel room, Larry had the rest of his enchilada, we both had rice and refried beans, Larry ate what was left of my salad, and I ate the remainder of my soup and half of a beef fajita taco.  Mmmm, it was still sooo good, especially since we’d gotten a jar of Sweet Salsa to put on the enchilada and the taco.  There were still three tacos left.

We put them into the refrigerator, but the next morning after checking the weather and learning that the day would be warmer, we decided not to risk making ourselves sick, and reluctantly threw them out.  Next time I’m hungry for Mexican food, I’m going to be sad about those wasted fajita tacos.  It wasn’t my fault; it was that nice waiter’s fault for not telling me I was ordering way too much food!  😏

The next morning, I discovered that appearances were deceiving.  The floor, made of faux wood planks, was dirty.  After showering, I walked across the room just once, and got my nice clean feet dirty.  Aaauuuggghhh!!!

I sat on the edge of the tub, washed and dried my feet, and then immediately put said feet into sandals.  I don’t like dirty floors or getting my feet dirty, thank you very much.

At 8:00 a.m., it was 46° on the way up to 64°.  We ate breakfast in the small nook in the office, somewhat trepidaciously on account of whiffs of cigarette smoke floating through, and the aforementioned dirty floor in our room.  Larry made himself a waffle, and I toasted an English muffin, and we laid no plasticware on tabletops.  We survived.  In fact, we didn’t even get sick.  As an added bonus, there were no bedbugs.

That afternoon, Victoria sent pictures of Willie and Arnold on her front porch, newly planted pots of flowers beside them.  In one photo, Arnold was holding a sprig of lily-of-the-valley, pleased little smile on his face.

I told Victoria, “When my lily-of-the-valley bloomed when you kids were little, I’d sing ‘He’s the Lily of the Valley’ to you.  When one of you would start singing that song while playing outside, I knew the lily-of-the-valley had blossomed!”

“Maybe that’s why I love the song ‘Lily of the Valley’ so much!” she responded.  “And it’s my favorite flower, easily.”

“Mine, too,” I answered, “and I love that song.  I can just hear my father singing it in his deep baritone voice.  He liked to sing it from the Praise & Worship hymnal, since there’s an extra chorus section there.  We once sang it... finished... he grinned at the congregation... shook his head... and said, ‘It’s still too short!’  Everyone laughed, and Mr. Wright said, ‘Amen!’ – whereupon everyone laughed again.”

We got to Hamilton, Missouri, home of Missouri Star Quilt Company, shortly after 10:00 a.m., and spent a couple of hours looking through their 18+ shops on Main Street, plus a couple of others besides.  

Then we headed to the Missouri Quilt Museum a few blocks away, and spent an hour there.

You wanna know what all I got, do ya, huh huh huh???  

I got two things, one for me, and one for Larry.  And they weren’t even at one of Missouri Star Quilt Company’s many stores.  Rather, they were at one of the local businesses, Farm House Collection, where they sold handmade things.

Coasters!  $3.50 each.  Yep.  I spent $7.00.  Plus $20 for admittance to the Missouri Quilt Museum, and an extra $2 as our very generous ‘extra’ donation.  

I really wanted a bunch of the candles and room scent sprays at Farm House Collection, but they were sorta pricey, and I didn’t want them broken or spilled while we jounced home in Larry’s ‘It’s-Not-the-Mercedes’ pickup.

The coasters are braided with thick cording, and the chickadee and pickup are embroidered on top of them.

We left Hamilton a little after 1:00 p.m. and headed for home.

Early that evening, we stopped at the Riverview State Recreation Area beside the Missouri River north of Nebraska City to eat.  It was windy and chilly.  We were going to eat at a picnic table, but it was too, too cold.  I put on my knit headband just to go over to the river and take some pictures.  We had croissants with deli-sliced chicken, lettuce, tomato, and cheese, and yogurt.

We got home around 10:00 p.m.

Friday morning dawned bright and sunny, 47° on the way up to 58°.

It’s time to get busy in the flower gardens!  I considered it that morning, but I had a slightly sprained big toe that’s been troublesome for two or three weeks, and Wednesday when we were hiking around one of those pretty lakes in Missouri, I strained the arch on the other foot.  I hadn’t expected to walk so far, or over hill and dale, and hadn’t put on my good walking shoes.  Anyway, the complaining toe and arch made excellent excuses for not working outside that day, right?  I mean, I love flowers and pretty yards and gardens and all, but I’m not particularly fond of dirt and sweat.  

I tell myself, Pretend you’re on vacation and playing outside!

Does that ever work??  😅  Not so much.

Sometimes I tell myself, The kids are coming tomorrow!  Gotta make this place look nice!

Yeah, that works better.  Evidently, I’m prouder than I am lazy!  😄

Friday, though, I worked on pictures and laundry, and enjoyed the Lazy Bear (honey and blackberry flavored) cold-brew coffee I’d been missing.  Mmmmm...

I also tried out the Merlin Bird ID app on the birds in my backyard.  My tablet has excellent mics.  It can pick up a faint birdsong quite a long distance away.  The minute it recognizes a birdsong, it puts the name down and shows a picture or a video; then the next name with a picture or video... then the next – and if the first bird sings again, the name, already listed, is highlighted in yellow.  If two sing at once, both names are highlighted.  It marks the location where the bird was heard, too.

You can click on a bird’s name, and it takes you to the list of songs, calls, photos, and videos from the All About Birds website, which is also run by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.

It’s a good app – and it’s free.  When I used it by the Missouri River, a noisy boat went by, and the app did nothing.  A child on the playground screeched, and the app did nothing. 

You can report the birds you hear and mark them on a map on eBird.  You can keep a complete list of all your sightings (and hearings).

I played a video clip I took when we stayed in a cabin beside Lake Barkley near Paducah, Kentucky, in late April of 2022, and finally learned what kind of birds I was hearing there.  I knew one ‘new’ (to me) bird was a Blue-gray gnatcatcher, but I didn’t know what kind of a woodpecker I had heard.

This is the male Blue-gray gnatcatcher in summer plumage.  One was hopping all around the covered boat dock at the bottom of the steep hill where our little cabin was.  Back then, I typed in a description of that bird (either I hadn’t learned about Google Image search, or it wasn’t a thing yet – when did it make its debut?) and learned pretty quickly what it was.

Hmmmm.  AI says Google Reverse Image Search began in June 2011.  WHY DIDN’T SOMEONE TELL ***ME***???!!!!

As for the woodpecker, Merlin informed me that it was a Red-bellied woodpecker, and offered me this picture.

In Missouri, all around the lakes where we stopped and in the woods by one of the motels where we stayed, Carolina wrens were singing their hearts out.  Teeny tiny little things – with one of the loudest, prettiest songs of all birds.

By comparison, the bald eagle’s call sounds like a small, high whistle, while the Carolina wren sounds like a full-fledged symphony of clarinets.

 But imagine if birds’ songs paralleled their size and attitude.  A bald eagle calling from 50 yards away might blow you plumb off’n yer pegs!

Hannah sent these pictures of her pretty Australian shepherds, Chimera and Willow.

I told her about the bird app, and she told me about the grackles they saw in Oklahoma recently.  “They sounded like vehicles starting at the gas stations,” she said.  “They would come really close to us all, probably looking for handouts.  One of them did a motorcycle stuck in starter mode.  People were quite amused.”

Grackles – and starlings, too – have been known to learn words.  So can magpies.

Larry tells a story about their neighbor lady’s pet magpie, back when he lived in Trinidad, Colorado, as a child.

Along with the magpie, she had a cat named Cindy.  Each day, she’d step out of the house and call, “Cinnnnnddeeeeee!  Cinnnndeeeee!” – either to feed the cat or call her in for the night.

So the pet magpie would sometimes perch on a post beside the door and call, in exact imitation of the lady’s voice, “Cinnnndddeeeeee!!! Cinnnndeeeee!”

The cat would come running.

But... the lady was not at the door.

The cat would look up... spot the magpie on the post... stick its ears out sideways in annoyance, and stalk off in high dudgeon, tail held stiffly straight up.

We were issued a frost warning for that night.  It will likely be our last frost of the season.

I thought there were longarms, new and used, for sale at one of the Missouri Star Quilt Company stores in Hamilton, because Larry saw one for sale online from there a couple of months ago.  But the only one to see was this one at the museum.  I should be more thankful for mine, shouldn’t I?!

Saturday, Amy sent a picture of one of their Anatolian shepherd puppies, writing, “The last puppy went to a new home last Saturday.”

It was a pretty day, with the temperature on the way up to 69°.  I spent a good part of it doing housecleaning and photo-editing.  It’s fun going through pictures old and new, enjoying happenings, scenery, and little ones now grown, all over again.

Supper that evening was steak and vegetable soup with pita and pretzel crackers, berry yogurt, and pineapple orange juice.

We had Snickers ice cream bars for dessert, totally spoiling our healthy meal. 

Afterwards, I had pomegranate herbal green tea by Bentley’s in this pretty teacup Teddy and Amy gave me.

Iowa and Wisconsin have some of the prettiest farms in the country.  This big barn was near Sheboygan, Wisconsin.

Sunday morning, I refilled and rehung the bird feeders, and little birds were soon arriving for breakfast.  I could hear Eurasian collared doves down on the ground, one story down, cooing to each other as they cleaned up the sunflower seeds the smaller birds had dropped. 

By 7:45 a.m., it was 50°, on the way up to 73°, bright and sunny.

I spent a couple of hours working in my flower gardens this morning.  They look much better now.  Purple irises are blooming, along with lily-of-the-valley.  The chokecherry tree is still flowering, too, and the peonies have buds all over them.

Sheets and blanket are in the dryer, and our quilt is in the washer.  There are three or four loads of clothes to go.

Larry came in and asked for a sandwich early this afternoon.  He didn’t want to come into the kitchen, he said, because he had gas fumes on him.  (Whew, did he.)

He stepped back out while I made the sandwich. 

When he didn’t show up for a while, I texted him, “Your sandwich is wilting and drying out.”

“I will come get it shortly,” he replied.

“Okay,” said I, “but don’t call me Shorty.”

I’d made the sandwich on Nature’s Craft wide-sliced whole-grain bread, toasted.  Our favorite bread.  I put blackberry jelly on one side and grape on the other – and noticed that we were nearly out of jelly.  So I ordered a large set of Smucker’s preserves from Walmart:  blackberry, red plum, peach, red raspberry, strawberry, seedless blackberry, apricot, blueberry, and cherry.  We like preserves better than jelly or even jam, because they have big yummy chunks of fruit in them.  I get the sugar-free or all-fruit preserves whenever I can.

Here’s an excerpt from one of my journals, dated October of 2002:

“Hannah and Aaron (he would’ve been a year and a half) stopped in for a few minutes that evening.  Aaron dearly loves the girls’ little cups of beads that he finds sitting around here and there, and he trots around carrying them by the itsy-bitsy handles, looking ever so cute.  Of course, he without fail spills them... and I without fail scramble around picking them up while Aaron stands holding the cup for me to put them in, blank of face.  This is how we convince our grandchildren we love them, yes?  

“When they got ready to go, Aaron said, ‘Bye-bye!’

“We all responded, ‘Bye-bye,’ like a room full of loving parrots, and Aaron continued sweetly, ‘Goin’ to wook!’”

To this day, we often say “Sanks for zuh schnacks!” just like Aaron did the time we had a little lunch at Bobby and Hannah’s house one evening.  We hadn’t brought any schnacks at all; they had provided the whole works.  We were going down the porch steps, and Aaron was at the open door calling after us, and telling us goodbye.

We still say “hangleburger”, too, just like Keith used to, when he about 2.

Just this morning, I pointed out some volunteer trees and told Larry, “There are more of those July Bug trees!”

That was what Aaron called my Black Locust tree when he was little.  He knew it was some kind of insect tree!

There, the quilt is dry and back on the bed.  The whole bedroom smells good now from Downy Paradise scent beads, and the quilt always feels sooo soft after I wash it.  I don’t wash it as often as I wash the sheets and blanket.

I like to hang things outside, but my clothesline went to pieces some time back, and I haven’t replaced it.  It’s so easy to just pop everything into the dryer with a good-smelling dryer sheet.

These socks that Victoria handknitted for me are now worth $10.95 more than they were worth in the first place, because that’s how much I had to pay to have Windsor Place Inn, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, return them to me after I left them there April 11^th.  

I’d worn them to bed... got hot and removed them with the toes of the other foot – and left them under the sheets and blanket, thinking sleepily, I’ll certainly not forget THOSE.

But I certainly did.

Out of sight, out of mind, despite the fact that I carefully check rooms two or three times before walking out and shutting the door behind us.  Anyway, I’m very happy to have them back again.

The head housekeeper told me that they usually discard such things, but someone knew these were special.  Also, I called them just a day and a half later; that helped.

Once they were safely back in my possession, I related the story to Victoria.

“Wow, they’ve had adventures!” she replied.

“When Daddy brought me the box from the mailbox,” I told her, “he said in a voice that sounded a lot like Arnold, ‘Here’s you sockies!’”

Victoria:  😂

Here’s a picture of Joseph, about 11 or 12, that just scrolled through on my screensaver.  He was apparently expecting the driving to be pretty harum-scarum!  😄

Now, back to the photo-editing.

,,,>^..^<,,,         Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,