If you can read this entry, I will have returned safely to Chicago after an exciting, educational cultural exchange trip to rural Montana. If you can’t read this entry, contact Margaret and tell her to post the travel entries that are waiting on my iBook.
Friday, Margaret dropped me off at the Delta terminal at O’Hare, itself an exciting new experience (since we’re steadfast United fliers). My flight took me from Chicago to Salt Lake City, and hence to Butte, Montana. Everything went just fine, except that my flight from SLC to Butte arrived a little late (as both Margaret and Rev. Ref firmly assured me. I didn’t notice; I was happy to get to Butte safely, where you will look in vain for a geological butte (although there’s a gigantic pit, a sort of reverse butte).
As my flight from Chicago drifted in toward Salt Lake City, I spotted the home neighborhood of Leta, Jon, Chuck, and dooce. I could tell because, as this photo demonstrates, I saw a single yellow sock on the sidewalk. If you can’t see the yellow sock, you aren’t using enough investigative imagination; a self-proclaimed journalist expounded details of Mary of Nazareth’s life that rested on much less evidence than I offer here — and she was on CNN, the home of Crossfire!
So anyway, I got to Butte satisfactorily; Todd drove me the hour from Butte to Sheridan, and handed me over to a delightful neighbor who sheltered me (in a suite equipped with a bearskin and a first-paperback-edition copy of I, Robot) and fed me breakfast during my visit. I turned in early, and slept like a top.