With the Turkey weekend approaching, I surely thought the price of gas would have gone up instead of down.
Osceola, Iowa, just south of Des Moines where the land has flattened to rolling hills and the dairy industry has caved to beef. Good people hereabouts, friendly but guarded when hearing Eastern accents.
That big blue trough of cold air is still heavy on our heals. We'll probably foresake the scenic blueroads and slide onto Interstate-35 for a quick decent south. Maybe we can outrun the cold.
Jackie's Mother called them "Angle Slides."
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