After a whirlwind tour that crossed three state lines (Illinois, Indiana, Michigan), the Bohemian and I have landed back among the crickets. We are officially back home.
With spotty internet connections at the various places where we slept, I left the Archives to rest while I mingled with the mid-westerners that gathered to celebrate love and marriage. With the Bohemian as the best man, our mission was one of support for the couple, specifically, the groom. There were highways to navigate, tuxes to be fitted, goulash meals to be shared, and appointments with the photographer to be kept.
With our own anniversary coming up at the end of this month, we did steal away and spend one day together beyond the wedding swirl. We wandered with our necks craned, viewing the heights of downtown Chicago, bracing ourselves against the cold. A windy city, yes, full of bustle, contrasting lines, and the interweaving dance of leaves and concrete.
We meandered, laughed, ate cheese and caramel popcorn, rode a ferris wheel, and toasted the day’s end with a glass of red wine. It was a short and sweet excursion, then off to Kalamazoo, where the festivities were beginning and we’d slip into our dancing shoes.