One of the things I accomplished while separated from the internet was scheduling our vacation.
This year, with my son being the age I was when we moved to Salt Lake City from Easton, Maryland, I thought it might be appropriate to show him things I saw while I was his age.
It’s been fifty years since my sisters and I were taken to South Dakota’s Mount Rushmore. I remember eating buffalo meat at a restaurant overlooking the presidential busts and that the meat was chewy. I liked it. Since then, there’s a light show we’ll have to take in.
And, Wyoming’s Yellowstone. I still remember my mother’s saying she wondered if my father would have a heart attack while he was frantically searching for me after I wondered off from the family. He figured I’d end up in some boiling water.
A woman I met at Home Depot after my computer died was wearing a Yellowstone sweat shirt, so I asked her for advice. She told me she and a cousin were the only ones at Old Faithful on the June 20th the year they visited who were wearing winter coats. That was appropriate because it was snowing.