Swings

It is bizarre to me that I can be in a tent in some random place and connect. I remember Scott telling me about the internet twenty years ago, trying to convince me it was a worthy cause . . . fifteen dollars a month, for what?

Now technology has changed everything. I expect to be connected. 

I had to show my parents the 'Find your Friends' App for their iPads so they could track me across the country. Dad feels much better being able to see us. He loves the hybrid view where the satellite pairs with a map and he can see the terrain  I think he likes to check up on us

I love that. 

But here I am, listening to a squeaky swing set across the campground and remembering that playground at the foot of the movie screen at the North Star drive in. And I hear the wind rustle leaves and listen harder for the sound of thunder in the distance. 

I hear fires crackle and laughs become giggles until they hush in sleep. 

The glow of my iPhone seems out of place and I want to sink into the memories of smoky nights, and rainstorms in tents. I want the only sounds to be my mother's songs and watch my dad make the moon disappear. 

But now I want this night, the squeaky swings to make that impression on Violet.
So these memories will mean all that to her.
Then we connect.
It transcends batteries and bandwidth.

More like generations. 

Laura Ingalls Homestead

On our way through South Dakota, we saw a sign advertising the homestead of Laura Ingalls (of the little house on the prairie books). 

We decided all of a sudden to turn off and give it a visit. Brilliant idea. 

As soon as I walked through the door I completely flipped out. It was awesome. They had all of the books, and tons of postcards as well as other tributes to te family (the tin cup Christmas, Charlotte, jack, etc.). They also had a golden violin necklace (a nod to Pa and his fiddle). 

We walked around and they had so much stuff. It was not dissimilar from a living museum. 

They had a rebuilt construction of the Ingalls homestead, complete with a butter churn, a washboard, organ, sewing machine, and hay beds. It was so cool. They also had a barn with horses and chicks and chickens (and lots of new kittens) they also had a calf. Oh! And ponies. As in actual ponies, not baby horses. 

We got to ride in a wagon, make rope, twist hay, make corn cob dolls, go to an old fashioned one-room school, and grind wheat. 

It was cool because they let everyone play around and explore. We got to pet the animals and climb on the buggies and play with the artifacts, which I found incredibly unique and exciting. 

I learned so much and had a fantastic time. Best detour ever. 

It's hard to explain the experience well enough to make it sound as fun as it was. But take my word for it. I was really, really awesome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

The homestead is in De Smet, South Dakota. It's awesome. 20/10. 

Mountaintops in the Mist

I didn't know we could go that fast

Up switchbacks

Reminiscent of canyon drives.

The reward this time wasn't a dam

Instead meadows

And clouds handing low over pine trees. 

The rain and mist and condensation

Barely separate

Alpine rolling across a mountain's crest  

Speed- sight- breeze stole my breath

We touched heaven

And didn't breathe the same again.

Little Bighorn Battlefield

Years and years ago I went to a place known as Custer's Battlefield. I think I was twelve or thirteen. 

It was a striking experience for me. At that time, history was told without censorship-- maybe with bias. I was young and not clear on what bias was. 

Stories of the battle and other atrocities that occurred concurrently marked my soul.

I was haunted by the government betrayals of treaties. Troubled by the clash of cultures when one was such a part of me. 

This time, though, history had been thoroughly sanitized. The moral judgement balanced and justified. Both sides valued, understood, illustrated in the most positive light possible. Like when you twist the truth enough to assure you won't be blamed as perfectly as you deserved.

I think I prefer the truth.

 Even when it is horrible

.

After 12+ hours of sleep

Wow. Okay. First post in a little bit. I have a legitimate excuse, though. Several, actually. As pretty as the Wyoming/Montana scenery is, it doesn't seem to like service much. Or internet. Or anything at all. No service, zero bars, zero 4G. So keeping contact had not been as easy as we would like.

Yesterday, though, we passed into South Dakota and stumbled upon real internet access. Incredible. 

In addition to our lack of service, I got surgery on my foot! Not exciting surgery, mind you, just doctors ruthlessly ripping my toenail out, which hurts a hell of a lot more than one would expect. 

I've had an infected toe for probably more than a year and a half and I've tried and failed at sucking it up. At length, I agreed to go to a doctor in Gillette, WY. They ripped the toenail out (I was totally stoic, though) and yup. I've been sleeping most of the time since then. I did, however, walk a couple blocks at Deadwood, SD. With shoes on. Quite an achievement. Once we got to Mt. Rushmore, however, I was exhausted and opted to wheel around in a chair. It was humiliating and earned a lot of staring. 

At one point, we were going through one of those automagic doors and halfway through it closed. On me. The door closed on me and I was stuck. A lady came to my rescue and opened the door to let me through, which was heroic despite her laughing. 

After a few hours of humiliation at Rushmore, we headed for the Econolodge (which is surprisingly nice) in Custer, SD. 

I fell dead asleep almost instantly, and stayed that way until about 11:00 this morning. 

So. Yup. That's all the latest news. My toe hurts, but it's not so bad anymore. Hopefully I'll get some photos up soon. (They're pretty gory). 

The Problem . . .

The Solution

The Side Effects

The Result

The Recuperation

Day 3

Who knew? 

1. Wyoming doesn't completely suck

2. Neither does Montana. 

We crossed the border maybe a half hour ago and though we aren't even that far away from Utah it's completely different. It's lush and open and fresh. And it looks like the default windows screensaver. 

An Abundance of Old Guys

We are sitting at a Perkins that is filled with old guys. It's honestly really creepy. They are all very old and very grouchy and appear to be incredibly judgy. 

Maybe there's an AARP conference is town. 

Perkins

Real breakfast. Real juice. Real girl. Real early. 

Don't touch the wildlife

The problem is the wildlife is really cute. This morning we woke up ridiculously early to a cold and slightly soggy tent. We decided that we should take our damp clothes to the laundry room, and that was definitely a stroke if brilliance. We got dressed into hot, dry clothes and walked back to the campsite to finish packing up. On the way we saw several robins, a handful of bunnies, as well as a grey squirrel. 

Awesome Room

Living 

    Little House on the Prairie

Forty-Seven Degrees

Birds are noisy.  They wake up early-- before truck drivers and daughters. Chattering songs that don't speak rain or tiny mummy bags. Just chatter or trill or make echos of chimes. Early.  

The Grand Canyon of Yellowstone

At Gibbon Falls

Surreal

Looking through windows

     a hundred years old --more

Cold pine air and

     seventeen different bird songs.

Steam clouds a landscape--

    part clay- barren  part meadow-

Alive!

     birch__ aspen__ pine  frame

A vision--

     a million years old--more

Hot sulphur-steam-cloud and

     Gallons rushing  exploding

Creating a morning 

                      unique

           singular

  ancient                     now

Too tired for dinner

Violet has stayed awake all day ...with no sleep she is struggling eating her pasta. Tired girl. 

I do think she will sleep well tonight. 

At Jackson Hole in Wyoming

new moccasins! 

We're off!

We are on I15 headed north, and eventually we will turn to the sunrise and make our way to somewhere far away enough to be new and terrifying and close enough to be not too scary. 

We left only 10 minutes ago, but I already have that rare and delicious sickness that comes with something totally awesome. Even just as we backed out of the driveway I felt it. I'll probably still feel it a month from now. 

Right now Dream Academy's instrumental of "Please please please let me get what I want" is playing and the sunrise is  straight ahead of us and life is beautiful. 

“I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing 
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance” 
― e.e.cummings