After a night at a state park in Fort Boonesborough, KY, where Daniel Boone set up camp in 1775 after fighting indians and trailblazing his way west, we headed toward Ohio. We got a bit lost trying to find the Bluegrass Parkway (which we thought would be scenic). Luckily, our meandering took us past elegantly manicured and white-fenced horse farms . . . Man O' War calibre.
We had lunch in Cincinnatti with Gene's granddaughter Jessica and her maternal grandparents, Ruth and Mert Gassert, whom Gene knew quite well. We then drove through heavy rain to Irwin, Ohio, and the Crabb homestead. Gene backed the RV close to the barn and plugged in. This would be home for the next five or six days.
The 4th of July was spent catching up on e-mail, baking pies, phoning the kids and grilling steaks. As we headed out to the RV that night, we paused on the port and John pointed out fireflies blinking their way across the fields of hay out back. It reminded me of childhood days in Illinois when we'd catch them and put them in glass jars with clumps of grass and lids with holes so they could breathe. Ah, the country life!
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