Dear me, photos are urging enough to get to walking and drop a few pounds.

We are safe and well. We went from Spokane to Buffalo WY (where new pet policies at our hotel (15.00 a head) make it certain we will use another routing)—then on to Sioux Falls SD, where we stayed the night, on to Lisle IL, and dropped off the kittehs with Jane’s sister…with two pens, and a cat tree for their amusement, plus ample food and water—‘Don’t open that door whatever you hear from in there!’

Went on to the Nebulas at the Palmer House, and meeting people. Wiishu channeled Bren…I’m sure Jane will have pix. Betsy had a lovely gift for me, a short kimono, which I wore on awards night, with black kit, and we had a very nice evening; had lunch at the Billy Goat Tavern, a little distance away, which was fun; and otherwise snacked off the con suite: two hamburgers at that hotel Palmer House are 65.00, counting a glass of beverage each. Good burgers, but not that good.

Sunday we all went our ways, and I began to cough. By Sunday evening, back in the far more comfy Red Roof Inn, which had ac that worked and mattresses that were comfy—(the fancy hotel, not so much)— I then came down with a royal case of whatever was floating about, respiratory crud. I don’t remember much, except we bought some groceries, and I survived while Jane helped out her sis with a couple of construction problems. We did collect the cats, who emerged fat, happy, and oh, so glad to see us. So I cat-sat, semi-conscious, too contagious to go near Jane’s sis, so I stayed and slept, oh, from Monday until Friday morning, at which point we gathered up the cats and baggage and took out. Jane drove the city traffic, which is insane, and when we got to the Dells, I took over and drove a bit.

First night we aimed for Al’s Oasis, a huge travel stop on I-90 at Oacama SD, and the comfiest hotel mattresses in the universe—Serta Pillowtop Commercial Grade—we asked. We tore ourselves away from the mattresses, and unwillingly aimed ourselves at Buffalo WY, but somewhere around Spearfish, or Gillette, our GPS advised us to hang a right and go up toward Broadus MT…through what proved to be the back side of the Crow Reservation, and a good route, if you don’t need gas, which there isn’t, except at Broadus—which is a western movie set doing business as a modern little town. Absolutely lovely but basic little bar, which fed us lunch, and on we went, across territory that at some points didn’t even have phone lines, and into a windstorm at the Custer Battlefield Conoco…nearly blew me off my feet as I was trying to cross a massive puddle. We had 60+mph headwind from there to Rocker MT, where, thank goodness, we had an old familiar hotel and a room.

From there, home is easy, except for driving rain and poor visibility: we were still back noonish, had lunch at the Swinging Doors, and collapsed. The aforementioned windstorm had also hit here, so we have flowers down, and weeds exploding from the warm moisture, but we’re glad to be back.

Waves limply.

Jane is sleeping in this morning—past 9:30 and she’s still out. But she needs it. She worked beyond reasonable limits getting us in order, packed, on the road, and back again—she’s exhausted, and I’m glad she’s sleeping. I only hope she doesn’t take what I’m just getting over.

Did we believe the GPS that did a rotational dance in central Chicago? We were dubious, being told to take off into a long run of empty territory. But that diagonal route between Spearfish and 90 at the Custer Battlefield is a big time-saver. It would be much easier if we had stayed at Bozeman or nearby, but prices there (it being gateway to Yellowstone) are higher, and we happen to like the Rocker motel.