While Mr. Bechtel and Granny were at Scout Camp, and while Golden Delicious and I were at the Art Clinic, the Spy Twins were having their own adventure in Wyoming and Nebraska.
They wanted to go to the Ricky Quinn clinic and Ricky offered to not charge them as much if they came out a week early and worked for him. That was great except there was no one to go with them. Mr. Bechtel was in Dallas and then needed for Leadership at camp, and I am nooooo good at pulling trailers. Finally we decided to just let them go.
They did great. The suburban broke down in Rock Springs and the trailer lights quit working. They fixed everything and managed to pull into Rawlins at about one in the morning. They camped at the fairgrounds. Pepper rubbed every bit of hair off the top part of his tail and now looks like a dinosaur, and they limped into North Platte the next afternoon.
They worked hard the next week building fence for Ricky. And then the next week was the clinic.
Mr. Bechtel and I wanted to go see them and help with the drive home. So we rented a car and drove over. I think I was slightly delusional because I was so happy to be with Mr. Bechtel on a long drive after not seeing him for so long. Everything in Wyoming looked beautiful to me.....!!???
Even the old, sad, abandoned gas stations had sort of a romantic appeal...
And I love trains, and Wyoming is definitely train country. Everything was lovely, perfect. I told Mr. Bechtel all about how I wanted a little house in a secluded little valley with a stream running through it, and how I would tend my little garden and he and the boys could run cows and we would all live happily ever after.
We stayed in Laramie, where the evening was 70 and calm and serene, which only added to the surreal feeling, since Laramie is never like that.
And then on the way home with the boys everything was gray and brown and desert and ugly and the dream vanished. I think I imagined the whole thing.
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