Real Life Adventures (5/5/10)

Although I grew up in Chicago, I had several relatives who lived in what might loosely be called “the country.” My trips to visit them were among the most enjoyable experiences of my childhood. I felt privileged to see a sky full of stars in downstate Illinois, sit in a rowboat in the middle of a vast Canadian river, walk down a dark gravel road in rural Georgia, and buy meat from a bison farm in the wilds of Quebec. Nowhere did I see a van seat perched on anybody’s front porch, and for what it’s worth, the gaudy floral prints were also few and far between.


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