I would say I feel like typing “Good Morning, Vietnam Internet!” but the truth is, I almost can’t move my fingers after they’ve been curled around the steering wheel of the Suburban for the last, oh, say, 5, 025 miles.
Five thousand and twenty five.
I’m still a little bit shell-shocked that we actually pulled it off and came home with the family intact.
There was one close call on the side of the road in the middle of Nebraska, but somehow we all managed to rally and pull ourselves together.
And when I say close, I mean Tuesday’s Breaking News segment on CNN might have been devoted to children abandoned under Nebraska’s safe haven law had it not been for a very strategically located gas station that allowed us to go to our respective corners and take a break from each other get some snacks and boost our sugar levels to allow the trip to continue in relative calm.
Thank you, Jesus.
When we first decided to head on this little jaunt, we thought that Mount Rushmore would be our most incredible destination, but little did we know that Cawker City, Kansas, would hold the biggest delight of the whole ding dang trip.
Land Area: Less than 1 square mile.
I wouldn’t say this is a bustling metropolis. In fact, we had our GPS navigational unit locked on the coordinates for the Ball of Twine, and we still drove right by it.
We were slightly giddy about seeing it for real.
Or maybe we were slightly giddy to get out of the car after having driven all the live long day to get there.
Either way, we were happy.
After taking the obligatory 6,000 pictures of the kids standing in front of it (and threatening a certain someone named J and J that if he didn’t smile he wouldn’t get to go to the gift shop), we followed the looping painted string down the sidewalk and across the highway to the only gift shop that A) appeared to be there and B) appeared to be open.
We were slightly amused by the sign taped to the door directing us whom to call if no one was there.
Once inside, we signed the guest book (and guess what, Sandra? Someone from Australia was just there!) and then stuck our push pin into the wall map.
They had just had their annual Ball of Twine Festival within the last couple of weeks and had the updated statistics written down for all to observe.
While I was perusing the store for a little souvenier (I bought a homemade handmade clay Christmas ornament that vaguely resembled the actual ball), I saw this t-shirt that caught my attention.
I asked the store owner if they allowed persons to wind twine at the festival (by the way, Lottie’s her name, and don’t DARE try to negotiate prices with her) and she said they allowed anyone to wind twine any day of the week if they wanted to.
We all stopped dead in our tracks and asked if she actually meant that we could actually ADD to the World’s Largest Ball of Twine and thus be ENSHRINED IN HISTORY for all of eternity.
Why, yes, we could.
And then we laughed and laughed and signed the guest book and drove off into the sunset towards our next adventure.
Sorry to string you along….
Have a nice day.