10:15 am, somewhere near Edison’s birthplace, OH: about 496 miles to Iowa City, sipping Starbucks (of course), listening to Jim Dale read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, handling about 20-plus different voices seamlessly.
And watching the corn go by. It’s not as high as an elephant’s eye. But there is a lot of it.
(This unvarnishedly agrarian view is only slightly undercut by the equally endless amount of road construction.)
Feeling optimistic, even though the dogs kept us awake most of the night – there were two weddings in the hotel. I will say I was impressed: the level of drunkenness was fairly epic, based on the stumbling, drunken behavior. At which Kingsley and Oonagh barked repeatedly.
Reminds me of a time when it seemed like a good idea to spray a fellow groomsman with a fire extinguisher, years ago.
Awesome Wife figured out, around 3 am, that we should move the dog crate to the side of the room with the kids’ white noise machine. After that, they quieted right down.
Supposedly there’s a fine wine bar at the Sheraton in Iowa City. Can’t wait!
Franklinsanity 
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