Before

                    Before we move on to the final leg of our trip, I want to talk a little bit more about our visit with cousin Suzy.

          Isn’t this just a beautiful face!? I think it is! Suzy, at eighty-six, is only now starting to turn gray. When we were there for a visit four years ago, she didn’t have a gray hair on her head!

          I was worried how our girls would do with strangers, I told you that before, and I really didn’t have to worry.

          Raini and Bondi both climbed up on the couch to be with Suzy and Raini leaned in for a kiss. Suzy didn’t want any part in any sloppy, smoochy, dog kisses.

          And that’s why I was surprised when Suzy got in the car with us (I sat in back with the dogs), and Raini stuck her face between the pet barrier and the seat and took a nip at the back of Suzy’s arm. She didn’t connect, thank goodness, and Suzy didn’t even know Raini’d done it, but I did!

I’ve always loved Suzy’s eclectic yard and I’ve modeled my own after hers, so before we left I walked around and took a few pictures.

          We only had to travel a few hours farther up into Kansas to stop and see my cute little redheaded sister, Diane. We left early.

          “We’re not planning on staying long,” I told her.

          “You’ll stay the night with me, won’t you?”

          “I think we’ll visit for a few hours, then start east and find a motel,” is what I told her. I love my family and even though I wouldn’t mind spending the night with any of them in their homes, it’s more comfortable to be in a hotel room where you can get up half-naked and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night without fear of running into one of them in the hall.

          That upset Diane a little. “I’ll just wave as you drive through town, then,” she said.

          I was sorry to upset her and spoke to Mike. “We could spend one night with her,” I begged. “If you get tired you could go to bed and Diane and I can sit up and play cards.”

          Mike agreed and I let her know we would stay the night with her after all.

          I loved the wind mills and took a photo whenever I saw one.  

          In this photo is the old and new. The old way to bring water up for your cows and the new way with a solar panel.

          Kansas stretched out in sweeping, open vistas. The little black dots in this one are cows.

          Then I started noticing some of the fences were made from stones.

          “It’s called post rock,” Diane told me later.

          A chat with Copilot, my AI buddy tells me these iconic stone fence posts are made from Fencepost limestone also called Post Rock limestone or Stone Post. The settlers used it when timber was scarce. Near the surface, the stone is soft enough to shape when it’s freshly quarried, but hardens over time when exposed to air. Rock posts can weigh between 350-400 pounds and required 320 posts per mile of fencing. The holes were bored by hand and hauled using sleds or forked tree limbs pulled by horses.

          The widespread use gave rise to regional nicknames like Post Rock Country and Post Rock Scenic Byway. It’s a symbol of Kansas ingenuity and resilience and many historic buildings and signs in the region are made from it.

          Fencepost limestone can be used for stone carving and is valued for its workability and rustic charm but because it has a somewhat grainy texture, it can limit the fine detail as compared to denser stones like Indiana limestone or marble.

          I let Diane know when we were just a few minutes away and sure enough, there she sat, waving at us as we drove right past her house.

          There weren’t any cars close behind us so Mike backed up and pulled in.

          After we parked and greeted Diane with hugs, I put the girls inside her fenced back yard.

          “Oh, those are some big holes in the wire,” I told Diane. “I bet Bondi could go right through it.” I thought about it for a minute and decided if I put the leashes together, Bondi might be able to come through, but Raini wouldn’t.

Then we got busy unpacking the car. We took out our overnight toiletries bag, and I dug around for the gifts I made and brought to Diane.

          “What did you make?” you ask.

          I made something like twenty-one tin can flowers. They’re separate pieces so she can mix and match them in any color configuration that suits her.

          While she was looking through the box, she came across a sheet of round black stickers in various sizes.

          “What are these for?” she asked.

          “Your ladybugs,” I said without thinking. Diane didn’t know that I was making her ladybugs and I let the surprise slip. She didn’t seem to notice. When she unpacked the second box she found the three baby ladybugs I’d made for her. Maybe I didn’t let the surprise slip after all, at least not all of it.

          “Are you going to wire them to your fence or run a screw through them and put ‘em on the side of your garage?” I asked.

          “I don’t know,” she said.

          Just about that time Bondi comes trotting up to us. I’d totally forgotten that Bondi could back out of her collar. 

          Mike picked Bondi up while Diane and I continued unpacking the car.

          “There’s one more surprise, but we have to take everything out because they’re on the bottom.”

          We unloaded a couple more boxes, our bags of clothes, and finally, the dog kennels. And there they were, under a sheet of cardboard. Two giant ladybugs!

          Diane laughed.

          She took the biggest one to the side of the garage and held it there. “That’s going to look so cute,” she said, then paused. “I just don’t know if they’ll stand up to the Kansas winds.”

          “Even if you put them up with screws?”

          “Yeah, even then.”

          They must have some pretty ferocious winds, that’s all I can say.

          We threw the stuff that was going in the house up on the porch and Diane gave us a tour around the outside of her property. Here she is with a couple of pieces she carved. Aren’t they fabulous!

Diane is in the middle of restoring the garage on her property, and she’s already put in a tremendous amount of work — replacing two-by-fours, leveling the structure, installing new headers and footers, and putting up fresh siding. Some of what she’s tackled is far beyond anything I could manage myself. I had no idea she was such a capable carpenter.

“Trying to fix what someone else has already tried to fix is like painting over a drip — now you own it,” Diane said.

She cracks me up.

          In this picture she’s showing me how far the roof has moved. She couldn’t move it back so she built the walls straight up.

          I turned my camera sideways to get a better shot, and when I pulled it up on my computer, I couldn’t help but laugh — Diane, caught mid-motion in that classic Superman pose, looked like she was flying. That was my first thought, so I left the photo sideways just so you could see it the same way.

          Her house is absolutely charming — just the right size for her, with a cozy, welcoming feel. It has three modestly sized bedrooms, one of which she’s thoughtfully transformed into a home office. Throughout the space, there’s beautiful woodwork, complete with built-in shelves and closets that add both character and function. It’s the kind of place that feels instantly lived-in and loved. 

          “We have to go up to the cemetery to see the sunset,” Diane said.

          At sunset, we went, and she was right — it was absolutely breathtaking.

          Diane stood and watched with me.

Sunsets don’t last very long. I wandered back and forth along the fence line and snapped shot after shot, framing the fence and grave markers in various shots, until the sun went down with one last fiery blaze. It was too dark to take any more sunset photos but not too dark yet for other photos.

          I turned to join Mike and Diane as they stood chatting. On my way I opened the door and let Raini and Bondi out, their leashes still tied together.

          Diane told us a story.

          “When I came to look at the house, I came up here and watched the sunset. Someone had called the police about a strange car being parked up here and they came to investigate. While talking to them, I found out that one of them was going to be my neighbor.”

          How cool is that! I don’t think she’ll have any trouble with burglars.

          Diane’s church, towering above the trees, caught the last of the light.

          “Let’s go for a little ride,” Diane said and we piled back into the car. 

          We drove out of town a little way before turning around.

          Once again, as you can imagine, my camera didn’t stop clicking for very long. 

          There’s a roof that wasn’t able to stand up to the winds of Kansas.

          “You can always tell when you’re coming into a town,” Diane said. “The two tallest structures in these little towns are the church and the water tower.”

          I sat at the kitchen island and chatted with Diane while she put together a zucchini bar for her breakfast the next morning.

While it was baking, Diane and I went through my sketchbooks. She wanted to see my watercolors in person, and I was happy to pack them along for the trip.

Diane liked the watercolors in the sketchbooks but she fell in love with two in particular.

“Do you want them?” I asked.

“They’re in your book,” she pointed out.

“That’s okay. It’s my book and I can cut them out if I want to.”

It’s flattering to think that a better artist than me desired to have a couple of my pieces.

          Mike held down the recliner and kept charge of the TV remote while Diane and I played cards at the table. We started with Quiddler, a favorite of my beloved Aunt Marie, and then I taught Diane how to play Phase 10. She enjoyed it right away. Seems like everyone does — except my handsome mountain man! He still refuses to play it with me!       

          Mike retired to the bedroom where he could stretch out and watch TV while Diane and I played a few more rounds of cards. All too soon it was time to call it a night. Diane had to get up early for work.

          In the morning, Diane cut the zucchini bars and shared them with me. I’ll tell you what! They were so yummy! I didn’t miss the replaced sugar or fat at all.

          “Do you want to take some for your trip?” she asked.

          “You made them for your work,” I pointed out.

          “It’s okay. I can share them if I want to.”

          I took her up on her offer and she packed two generous portions for Mike and me, along with some for her own lunch.

          It was hard for me to wait to eat some and we hadn’t gone far before I unwrapped one.

          “Here,” I said handing Mike a piece. “Give it a try. It’s low in sugar and fat.”

          Mike really liked it, too, and didn’t refuse whenever I broke off a piece and handed it to him.

          The morning we left Diane’s, we drove as far as Hayes, Kansas and had breakfast. From there it was more than 1,400 to home. Mike drove it in two days.

          How about a few road pictures? These will be from our trip but not necessarily just the last leg of the trip.

          This one is from our second day on the road heading west. We’d spent the first night somewhere in Indiana and got on the road early. This is the sunrise over the Indy airport and I made it my desktop picture.

          The sign was right. Mike didn’t think it was a good place for the guy to wait.

        

          I saw hawks on the trip but I don’t think I got anything worth showing, though. This was the only eagle I saw and I almost missed the shot.

          With that, let’s call this one done!

          Done!

 

Change

     

    On our last day in Lake Ozark, my beautiful friend, Linda, and I took the dogs for a walk down School Road.           

      We saw more empty houses than there used to be.

       I looked for the old road that would take us down to an old house. I used to know who built the place, but I don’t remember anymore. It seems to me it belonged to one of the founding members of Lake Ozark when the dam was built back in the 1930s.

          One day, as I was going past that old, abandoned house, a committee of vultures were sunning themselves on the roof. I do have pictures of that — somewhere.

          The road continues back to an old schoolhouse and I thought about visiting it again.

I did find the beginning of the road, but it was so overgrown with weeds that Linda and I weren’t even tempted to hike down to find it.

I remember taking my daughter Kat and her daughter Jessica back to the schoolhouse. There was no floor inside, just trees and brush growing up, but there were remnants of an old chalkboard still on the wall.

          The school on School Road is still in use and has a new addition on it, but here’s one of the basement doors from the old part. I’m guessing it’s not in use anymore.

Our time in Lake Ozark came to an end and it was time to meet up with Mike’s brother Cork in Kansas for a visit with cousin Suzy.

          On our way out of the area, we made a stop at the historic site of the castle ruins in Ha Ha Tonka State Park.

          Once again, I am reminded that things don’t stay the same. There was a fence around the castle ruins and you couldn’t get close to it. There was a sign declaring the ruins as unstable.

          When family came to visit, we would take them to the ruins. My handsome little redheaded brother and his wife came and even though we couldn’t go inside, we could lean in the windows and walk through the coach gate.

          Even the patio and fountain areas are off limits now, but here’s an old photo when Momma, Kat, my oldest boy, Chris, and his then wife, Angie, came to visit.

          I did stand there for a while, though, and accompanied by my memories, watched the vultures land on the uppermost points.

          After I left the castle area I walked around what was left of the old carriage house.

          Mike didn’t walk around with me, his back just can’t take a lot of walking these days, but he did find someone to talk to while I explored.

     

My next stop was the old water tower. I was pert near exhausted by the time I got to the top of all these steps!

You could still walk right up to the entrance of the old water tower but you couldn’t go inside. It had a locked iron gate.

Peeking through the bars, you could see where the old floor used to be anchored to the wall. I believe the top floors of the tower housed some of the castle help.

          I think it’s only about four hours to Iola from there. I took a ton of pictures, as you may well guess, but for today, for this letter blog, I’m only going to show a couple of road pictures. One day I’ll devote a blog to just the road pictures from our trip.

          The road we were on across Kansas was straight and, in most places, flat. With nothing in the lane ahead of us and nothing coming from the opposite direction, Mike decided to open it up and see just how fast our car would go.

          “Get a picture, Peg,” Mike says.

          I unclenched my hands from the armrest and snapped a picture.

          “Let’s see how fast I can go,” Mike said. “One-oh-seven! Get a picture!”

          I didn’t really want to be going that fast so I quickly clicked off about three pictures, not caring if it was focused or not. Looking at the downloaded photos, I can see that it didn’t once focus on the speed, focusing every time on the steering wheel instead. Blurry or not, I’m sure you can tell what it says.

          We checked into a motel before we went to find cousin Suzy. Then we went to see if Cork, Mike’s brother had made it in yet.

          He had.

          Cork and Dee were still setting up their RV site when we got there, but paused long enough to greet us and introduce us to the newest member of their family.

          “This is Matty Lou,” Cork said. “Matty after Dee’s grandmother, and Lou after ours,” he told Mike.

          Matty is a Multipoo, a cross between a Maltese and a Toy or Miniature Poodle.

          She’s all fluff! There’s no weight to her at all!

          We brought Matty a gift of Bondi’s favorite toy. A five-pack of little rubber squeakies and gave her one.

          Matty loves those squeakies! So much so that after a few days they took it away from her and won’t let her have it anymore. She was driving them crazy with the squeaking.

          It’s our tradition, when we visit Suzy, to go to the family plot in a cemetery a few miles from Iola.

          Cork and Dee went to pick up Suzy while Mike and I went out to the cemetery. It was fenced in so I let our girls run.

          “Peg,” Mike says. “They can get under the fence.”

          It wasn’t long until that’s exactly what they did. Scooting under the fence, running through the field after who knows what, and taking too long to respond when I called them back. The cemetery is out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farmlands, on a seldom used road. I wasn’t worried about them getting hit, nonetheless, they had to get back in the car and wait.

          When Cork, Dee, and Suzy got there, they let Matty run. She’d go off a little way but would come back when they called to her. That instilled a lot of confidence in them.

          While these guys reminisced, I wandered around and looked at the old headstones.

          There were a lot of young people. It was harder to keep your babies alive back in the 1800s. Maggie only lived a month before they lost her.

Keeping them alive through the infant and toddler stage was no guarantee. Bertha died just shy of ten.

          Other headstones, other people, didn’t even get a name, let alone dates of birth or death. Just initials. I tried to guess what this name might’ve been.

          I was surprised that there were a few new “old” headstones. I’m guessing family came in and had new headstones made.

          When it was time to go, Cork and Mike both called to Matty. She’d head towards them then veer off at the last moment in a game of tag.

          Dee gave it a try.

“Matty, come here,” Dee called in her best, most commanding, mom voice.

Matty found a piece of something dried from a flower arrangement, scooped it up and started a game of keep-away with Dee.

"What have you got?" she asked Matty. "Come here!"

          Before anyone could get a hold of her, not that I was even trying, Matty Lou spotted a Monarch and gave chase.

        She was so stinkin’ cute bouncing through the grass and jumping after that butterfly.

          Eventually she tired and they captured her.

Suzy’s son Jon and his wife Jill bought the family homestead from Suzy’s brother, Don. He wanted them to keep it the same but as we’ve already learned, nothing stays the same forever.

          “We kept it as original as we could,” Jill told us, the ache of their uncle’s refusal to come and see the newly renovated farmhouse still fresh in her voice. “We did give the kitchen a total makeover because I wanted my dream kitchen.”

          It was beautiful.

Jill showed us how she transformed an old pie safe into a coffee bar.

          And how she used a screen door as the door to her pantry.

          But the rest of the house they left with original floors and doors and windows. I think the only thing they did was to give it a fresh coat of paint.

          I was interested in the original pieces of artwork adorning the walls and listened intently as Jill told me how they acquired each piece. There were even some pieces done by family members.

          After Jill’s mother died, she, along with a sibling, was tasked with cleaning the place out. She found a pilot’s license belong to one of her relatives signed by no other than Orville Wright himself. Fabulous find! And what a keepsake!

          The old milk barn has been renovated into a gathering place. They left the original six milking stanchions as part of the decor but added a restroom.

          “It seemed a lot bigger when I was young,” Cork said.

          When we were young, everything was bigger, the snow was deeper, the summers longer. 

          Jon and Jill did an absolute fabulous job with this place.

          I left Mike to visit with his family and went to explore.

          I found the bone shed. I knew it used to be there and in a strange way, I’m glad it still is. Not everything has changed.

          I went to see the horses and along the way I saw these guys. They’re Helmeted Guinea Fowl.

          I noticed that there were feathers lying all around the coop.

          “Can I have some feathers?” I asked when I rejoined the group.

          “Sure!” Suzy said. “Come on, I’ll show you how to get in.”

          With Suzy’s help I picked a whole bouquet of feathers. I had plenty to share with some of my other feather-collecting friends.

          The barn still holds many treasures.

          Other family members came and held a lunch in Suzy’s honor.

          Starting on the left and working our way around the table, I’ll introduce you to everyone. Cork, Dee, Suzy’s sister-in-law, Susan, married to Suzy’s brother, Dennis. Then Jill is on the end. Her husband popped in to say hello to everyone but Jon had to get back to work. I’m across from Jill, then my handsome husband, and Suzy’s brother Dennis, with Suzy on the end, right side. Lonnie, Suzy’s son, came to lunch, too, but didn’t want to be included in the photo.     

          Iola has a fabulous walking trail. They took out the old railroad line and paved the pathway. It’s about six and a half miles long and eventually links up with the Prairie Spirit Trail which stretches fifty-two miles from Iola to Ottawa.

          On our last night in Iola, Cork wanted to get together for a final supper. The problem was, no one was hungry.

          “Let’s just get ice cream,” I suggested. I remembered from our trip to Niagara Falls with them that they enjoyed having ice cream for supper.

          Afterward Dee and I took pictures of these two handsome brothers.

          And just like brothers, they can sometimes be competitive.

      

          Besides having to leave the next day, the saddest part of the visit was this.

          Right across from where Mike and I were staying was this guy. He lives right there, tied to the porch, day and night, night and day. He has dishes for food and water and he sleeps under the porch. I wish I could’ve just loaded him (or her) in the car with us when we left and taken him along.

          “Why do people have dogs and leave them tied out all the time?” I asked Mike. Unless they’re specifically trained for guard dogs or Police dogs, they’re more than just pets; they’re members of our family.

          He didn’t have any answer except, “I don’t know.” 

          With that, we shall call this part of our journey done.

          Done!