It has been a tough week. I had a rough couple of days about this time last week, and on Thursday I got some bad news. The Grey household has had a couple of additional wrenches tossed into the gears of our current health situation, and, in all, things have been a little more difficult than I would prefer.
That said, on Friday night, we headed out for a semi-impromptu road trip, driving three hours west (and apparently twenty years into the past) to arrive in Salina, where we spent the night before heading on to Lindsborg, a delightful little town forgotten by time, where I saw, among other things, an actual phone booth and a card catalog. Not to mention lots of beautiful houses and spooky old buildings.
While we were in the area anyway, we stopped by Coronado Heights, a place that I visited many times as a kid. At least ostensibly the place where Francisco Vasquez de Coronado gave up on his quest to find the seven cities of gold, I was fond of it as a kid because there’s a picnic shelter there designed to look like a castle. As an adult, the castle is still neat–and still small–but the actual hill upon which it is built is probably cooler, a sandstone bluff etched with graffiti and covered in unusual-for-the-area plants.
Grace had never been, so we went out and she even climbed the stairs in the castle, in spite of her cast, so that she could look out from the rooftop over the surrounding countryside. It was a good trip.
Thanks to the one-thing-after-another nature of the last year’s worth of assorted health incidents, I remain behind on just about everything. I hope to return to relative normalcy soon, but we’ll see.