We came across this incredible geological formation, called The Devil's Slide, between Ogden and Salt Lake City. We wouldn't have found it had we not taken a wrong turn and decided to follow our noses.
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"Ahh!"Bear in the grass on Utah's capital lawn.
Daughter D said we ought to photograph the dogs pooping on the grass, but I thought that was too rude, so we got Bear's roll instead.
Thursday:
Here is the daily blog, my ramblings. Carole, we passed Young Living’s Essential Oil Lavender fields today–no lavender in bloom. A surprise to find the farm though.
Today we walked down a long hill and photographed the Mormon Temple complete with trees abundant in pink blossoms. I said, "Here we are at the Mormon Temple and we aren’t Mormons. But then we plan to visit the Native American cliff dwellings and we aren’t Native Americans. Daughter D said, "Yes and we’ve visited Rome and we aren’t Catholics."
So we agreed that we were equal opportunity spiritualists.
She said we ought to photograph her breast-feeding at every historic site–that’s better than photographing the dogs pooping on every grassy slope.
That reminds me of this morning. At breakfast a trucker told us his dog knew every state by smell, and exactly where its bathroom should be. This fellow sat at the table next to us and we kept talking, and he kept forgetting to order. He said he wasn’t going to credit Obama with the present upswing in the economy. I didn’t want to go into politics, so I said, "It’s attitude. If people believe the economy is improving, it will."
He spoke of owning his own truck and that it cost $90,000, and he hocked his life for it. We were happy to find someone who liked their job, and who felt pride in being his own boss. And we wondered how some people are slaves their whole life and others do what they love and get paid for it. And how can we feel free to be and do, and have money for what we want out of life? We thought of that trucker transporting food instead of Plasma Televisions–so I really cued into seeing a tanker milk truck passing us. "Is that truck completely filled with milk?"I asked.
"Must be," Daughter D said.
"Is it refrigerated?" That launched us into making a fantasy movie of a tanker milk truck getting splattered like a movie run-a-way car hitting those water canisters at freeway exits. Milk is splattered all over the freeway, and little animals come up to lap up the milk. But wait, the animals run, there’s another truck coming. It’s an ice cream truck. It slips on the milk, overturns and now we have what? Before we can recover from the two trucks splattered all over the freeway, a third truck comes along skids on the ice cream and slams into the first. Of course, you say, I know what it is, a chocolate truck! A great pile up. And then with milk splattered, with ice cream oozing, with chocolate drizzling, who would come along but a little putt, putt peanut truck...
You know the rest of the story.
We have come 1,080 miles so far. I’m dingy and ready for bed.
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