Today’s journey led me to a gravel road. A wrong turn to be exact.
It went on much longer than expected. It reminded me of childhood summers, and my family’s trips to see my father’s parents.
They lived on a farm out in the middle of rural farmland in the state of Missouri. We always pronounced it with an “ah” sound at the end, and not a long “e” sound.
On these trips we had to drive for miles on gravel roads.
When all the family was together my grandfather would pile all of the grandkids (9 of us) in the back of his pick-up truck, and drive over the hills at high enough speed that the back end would lurch up and our stomachs would drop on the way down.
It was a greater thrill than any roller-coaster ride.
In today’s world the child welfare police would probably want my grandfather’s neck.
However, I must say it was a thrill I will always remember.
This photo is of my grandparent’s farmhouse.
movingforwardslowly 