Hello faithful blog readers (all three of you), I am still alive!

I moved out of my apartment early this week, and now I no longer have a residence. I'm crashing at one of Bob's friends in the scary basement. Oh well, can't complain, it's a roof over my head.

Last weekend, Bob and I took a trip down to Kansas City to see some old friends and Bob's great-uncle Les. We went to Westport (I think that's what it's called) on Saturday night. In the span of three hours we saw three people get arrested and two people puke. It was a charming evening. The next day, we saw Jenna and Bob's great uncle Les.

Les was a great old man. Within 30 seconds of meeting him I got a hug, and he proclaimed proudly '5'10", 130 - am I right?' - then we had to call his daughter, Anita in Texas to tell her my measurements - apparently there had been quite a wager going. It was great. We saw all of his inventions and creations over the years, and then had dinner at Applebees. He made apple crisp for dessert. Yum!

It was fun to hear his stories about the war and about his days of typing out morse code. He still gets on his radio (yep, he's the one that got Bob into Ham) and types out morse to his buddies, and it must really work for keeping a guy sharp because he's probably close to 90, but you'd never know from talking to him.

One thing that struck me is the generation gap. I'm used to having people ask about my college education and my career outlook, but not great uncle Les. He asked Bob all about education and jobs but not me. I got asked about my ability to cook, sew, knit and crochet. Bob got to read articles about the war and figure out puzzles, and I got shown the knitting machine, quilts and African violets. It's amazing how different things are after just a generation or two.

Well, I'm off to the library to find a story to tell for my last program at Ledges on Saturday. Wish me luck!