Vacation 2017 – Part 3

A view from the bridge

We continued on in Nebraska, heading more or less towards the northwest corner of the state. We saw a sign that indicated that there was a historic bridge on a road that branched to left of the one we were on. So we decided to drive over to see it. We found the Bryan Bridge which was built in 1932, It is an arched cantilever trussed bridge that is connected in the middle by a single pin. It was designed by a Russian emigre who graduated from the University of Nebraska Engineering, and was named for the then Governor of the state. I took a number of pictures from the bridge but only realized after we go home that I never took a picture of the actual bridge. You can see a picture of the bridge and read more about it at

We continued on to Valentine, Nebraska where we stopped at the pretty city park to eat a picnic lunch. We had packed food in our cooler so that we would not have to eat every meal in a restaurant or pick it up in a fast food drive-through. With the exception of a stray cat that wanted to join us, it was a pleasant meal.

From there we drove on to Chadron, Nebraska, where we decided to spend the night. Before checking in to a motel however, we drove a few miles south of town and went into the Chadron State Park, which was the first state park in Nebraska. In parts of the park you can still see the effects of a fire that happened in 2012. It was in this park where we first noticed the haze/smoke in the air from the wildfires that have been burning in our western states this year.

Vacation 2017 – Part 2

Inside the mill
Inside the mill

We had spent the first night in Anamosa, Iowa. When we got up the next morning I pointed out to Cindy that we were across the street from the National Motorcycle Museum, but she wasn’t inclined to visit it. So we left town after partaking of the free continental breakfast. If you want to visit the museum, it is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. seven days a week.

Our drive through Iowa was uneventful, as was a large part of our time in Nebraska. We weren’t on the Interstate, so we didn’t feel as if we had to rush anywhere.

When we arrived in Neligh, Nebraska we found the Neligh Mill. It was a a mill built in 1873 by John D. Neligh. It was originally a water powered mill that produced flour and animal feed. As the years passed it was upgraded to also produce electricity. The mill was also modified to no longer depend on water power and the grind stones were replaced by steel milling machines that were electrically powered. The upgrades allowed the mill to produce more flour and feed that was marketed outside the area under a number of names.

The mill is now a historic site operated by the Nebraska State Historical Society. For more information about the mill you can visit this website:

I’m short on text today, so I’ll add a couple more pictures.

An exhibit
The original power source

Vacation 2017 – Part 1

On the road again

I’ve been back home now since Thursday night. Usually I am in a rush to start posting about our trip as soon as I’ve had a good night’s sleep, but not this year. I am not sure why I’ve put off writing, but I haven’t had any desire to sit at the keyboard and pour out my stories. Still, if I don’t start soon I may never get around to doing it. Unlike past years, I don’t plan on doing a day by day breakdown. I may well skip over some days, or cram three or four days into one post. I’ll just play it by ear.

Once again we headed west, but not to Las Vegas this year. No, this year we drove to Oregon to spend a week with Lee, Michelle, and our grandson Wyatt. In the picture above we started our drive going west through Illinois. Please note that we are not on an Interstate highway. We had to share the road with trucks, but certainly not as many as we would if we had taken an Interstate. Plus we had seven days to make the trip. There was no reason to rush any more than was necessary.

Having plenty of time was good. Cindy took it to mean that we could leave later on our Tuesday start date. I’ll only say that we left later than the 8 a.m. that I preferred. Oh well. I love her. It was a cool, cloudy morning. We stopped and ate (a late) breakfast at one of our favorite restaurants before leaving Indiana and heading into the wilds of Illinois. The trip across Illinois was uneventful. We crossed the Mississippi River and drove into Iowa in the afternoon. We stopped and spent the night in Iowa.

A small part of my day


I took this picture about a month ago. Once a month during the summer, Lafayette has what they call Mosey Down Main street. People set up stalls to sell wares; there are food stands; there is some live music; and some of the merchants are open after their regular store hours. While this has been going on for a number of years, this was only the second time that we attended. The first time we went, it started pouring down rain and we left. This time was OK. But I think that attending once every two or three years will be good enough for me.


I decided to do some ironing this morning. It is something that I have been putting off for quite a while now. When I told Cindy what I was about to do, she said something along the lines of, “Oh, really?’ I believe I detected a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I had to admit that I had been talking about ironing for a month or more, but had never gotten around to actually doing any ironing. Well, today was the day.

I prepared for the task by setting up the ironing board, getting out the iron and filling it with distilled water, plugging the iron into the wall socket, and turning on the iron. Standard stuff that everybody does. Unless you are one of those devil-may-care types who use tap water rather than distilled. If you are one of those people, I can’t imagine what the innards of your iron looks like. Oh, and I put on some music to iron by.

I started out with the shirts. I had four that were so badly wrinkled that even I didn’t want to be seen in public wearing them. I need to tell you now that shirts are the garment that I least enjoy ironing. I don’t dislike all aspects of the shirt. The collar, the box plate, and the lower body of the shirt are easy to iron. But I always have trouble with the yoke, the arm holes, and the sleeves. They all have puckered areas that I cannot flatten with an iron without ironing in a crease somewhere else. It didn’t help that I started out with the iron on the wrong setting and found myself trying to muscle the fabric flat. I rectified that before I started in on the second shirt.

The second shirt went a little faster and caused fewer problems because it was a short-sleeved shirt. Still, It seemed to me that it took a long time to finish the second shirt. I thought about that. Maybe it was because I was listening to the wrong type of music. I popped out the Pink Floyd CD and put in one by Jerry Jeff Walker. That seemed to work. I defy anyone to do a slow job of ironing when Jerry Jeff is singing Hill Country Rain. It can’t be done.

The third shirt went quickly. The fourth also went at a similar pace. Of course with speed you tend to give up on other smaller things like the four-inch long wrinkle I ironed into the right sleeve of the third shirt. Or skipping the yoke entirely on the fourth shirt. Nobody will notice.

I also realized that I could put off ironing the two pair of pants that needed it. After all, I wouldn’t be needing them any time soon. I’ll get them the next time I iron. I’m sure that will be soon.