My grandpuppy is happy to see me, but was keeping an eye on Hubby last night when we arrived.
For those who haven’t heard, the reason I call my daughter, Zilla, because at an early age she could have easily destroyed Tokyo just by toddling through it.
We saw wispy bits of perceptible air as we drove in last night. I think it is called fog. I’ve seen it only twice in Tucson in the last 24 years. I believe it was at this time that we entered the mythical land, or perhaps it is a time warp, of strong women, good looking men, and above average children when we stopped to fill up the gas tank at a cooperative and purchased some sweet corn ON THE HONOR SYSTEM. I had not seen an honor purchase system in place since I was a little girl. I took my eight ears of corn and put $4.00 through the hand made slot in the top of a metal tackle box secured with a tiny lock that really does nothing more than keep the top from accidentally being spilled.
I’m going to be here for about a week before I go on to travel by train to BlogHer at the beginning of next week. Perhaps I will find more Wobegon-esque elements of this area, even in big, bad Minneapolis to report on before then.