And finally, because earlier posts didn’t lend themselves to this content, here is an Atlanta wrap-up. Overall, despite the loooong road out, I give this
I was starting to think flatlanders aren’t supposed to find it: the Atlanta cemetery, the final resting place of Dutch Em, that is. Don’t get
The sign said Atlanta was just ahead. We were thirsty and tired of riding in the truck and looking forward to a rest stop and
The Professor and I have begun a weekly habit of visiting places that pique our curiosity that are within a 125 radius of our home. Atlanta falls within that circle, just barely, though getting back was an exhausting four hour trip following the curves of the Middle Fork of the Boise River. On a gravel road pocked with potholes and washboards. Good thing the rest of the trip made it worth it.
We’re just back from an amazing and posterior-numbing trip into the Idaho backcountry. Check back later this week for a story that’s provoked some unanswerable why questions. I hate that!
I’ve begun to do the work necessary to disentangle myself from my Home. It may take some time, but the first step has been discarding a few things that have possessed me, things that have held my attention and emotions: Dad’s red leather chair, my Grandmother’s secretary, photos, an oak rocking chair.