FizzyLizzy

Even though it didn't get as hot as they thought, we spent an hour in 50º Mystery Cave.
























The heat, or advertisement of it, kept the crowds out of Lanesboro. We did not see one person on the bike path. Lots of tubers though.

My mom asked if we had brought any of those tasty lemonades. We had not.

I feel my parents have entered a different phase of life when their version of packing consists of putting clothes on hangers into the car. (Don't tell them I said that.)

I spy a quilt, a bed, and a "treasure chest lamp." This is where William wanted to camp.



















C'mon, use your imagination!

A cow moos at 7:20 a.m.--half the house is still sleeping. At 7:21 a.m. William yells, "CAN YOU PLEASE BE QUIET, COWS?"

Fillmore County and I have a storied past, though most of those stories are only a short paragraph. While not even close to literally true, I feel I have spent half my life there. Going to F.C. feels like spending the weekend reminiscing with a childhood friend.

And I have one more thing to say. I will get freaked out if you don't read my blog for two days and then Mom tells me that she had a weird phone conversation with you. So don't do that.