Our newest BFF's - Lilly, Angel, and Shane

Marna and Jeweler Steve are pictured below:

October 25, 2020 - Sunday morning

34 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Williamsburg, Iowa

More about our newest friends in a bit. Until then, let me tell you how we landed in beautiful, sunny, downtown Williamsburg, Iowa... not pronounced EYE-OH-WAY. (Sometimes I say EYE-OH-WAY just to watch the locals shudder as if someone ran his fingernails up a blackboard. It's cheap entertainment.)

Saturday was meant to be a travel day, but since it took just a bit over an hour to drive from Galesburg, Illinois, to Morse, Iowa, we weren't in any hurry to get anywhere.

One of the morning's highlights was passing by:

IOWA 80! THE LARGEST TRUCK STOP IN THE WORLD!

I delicately asked Sargie if she wanted to stop in, rub elbows with the boys, and enjoy the Trucker's Special for breakfast. After .0001 seconds of thought, she said she'd pass.

Ten four Good Mama! We'll keep the hammer down.

Further on was West Liberty, Iowa, the home of Herbert (not to be confused with J. Edgar) Hoover. Once again, I inquired if we should stop and Sargie being who Sargie is, interested in all things "Hoover," agreed that we should.

A couple of hours were spent touring the small town and the grounds maintained by the National Park Service.

We felt sorry for the poor park ranger. There weren't a whole lot of people, six or eight at most, who were touring the facilities. It was obvious that Ranger Rick was anxious, indeed eager, to be an interpreter, answer questions, and keep the law and order.

Our buddy, Ranger Rick, who had to be the most lonely man in West Liberty

It was cold and windy and stationed outdoors, the ranger followed us around like a lost puppy. We appreciated his knowledge and felt as though we received our own guided tour. Thanks, Ranger Rick! You're the best!

In my typical manner, I took pictures of any and everything, far too many to post.

Herbert Hoover's boyhood home

I'll post a few photos and let you fill in the blanks. There are many at other sites online should you wish to see more.

President Hoover and his wife's grave site

Putting West Liberty in our rearview mirror, we traveled through the country to Morse, Iowa, where Grandma and Grandpa, Great Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Doogie, Uncle Larry, Aunt Pry, Aunt Ethel, and Uncle Jeep, are buried.

Don't ask about the names. All of us Pennington's have nick names, but then I'm married to a woman who has been called Sargie her whole life. No wonder it was love at first sight.

 

Grandma and Grandpa (above)

Great Grandma and Grandpa

Each grave and person has an interesting story, but that's for another time. It was good to find my relatives, many of whom I was quite close to.

Several of the graves were overgrown with perennial flowers. At Sargie's suggestion, we'll return next summer with a rake  and shovel in hand and clean the sites a bit. I wouldn't mind digging a few of the flower bulbs to take home so I might be reminded of my relatives each year when they bloom.

Our next leg was to North Liberty, Iowa, to find Grandma and Grandpa's old home. Sixty years ago, North Liberty's population numbered in the low hundreds. While there during the summer months, we rode our bikes up and down narrow streets, knew everyone in town, and I even played on one of the Little League teams while visiting.

Today, North Liberty is a very upscale bedroom community for Iowa City. The population is well over 20,000 and rapidly growing. Though we drove around, I never saw anything that even resembled Grandma and Grandpa's house and am fairly certain it was torn down long long ago.

As I mentioned yesterday, many of my childhood memories only exist in my head.

Now where do we go? With snow coming down in the UP, we weren't anxious to head north. Hmm, how about an outlet mall thirty miles to the west towards DesMoines? (Pronounce it DEZ MOANEZZ to watch more locals shudder! Works every time!)

Sure, why not?

We walked and walked, doing a lot of window shopping and spending little money. Suddenly, a Kay Jewelers, tucked among other stores, appeared on the horizon.

Sargie had once mentioned that someday, she wouldn't mind adding a wrap around band to her wedding ring. I never said a word at the time, but knew exactly what she wanted.

We were met by the friendliest clerks, all, who were eager to help. The ladies laughed, talked, and tried on rings. I did my best to keep them entertained.

It was then that Shane, a company rep from Georgia, galloped onto the scene like Custer at the Big Horn. He took Sargie to the other side of the store where among hundreds, maybe millions of sparkly, million dollar diamonds, the perfect band was found.

Before Sargie could say that really, she was just looking, I said, "We'll take it."

Jeweler Steven happened to be in the store and could resize it to fit Sargie's finger. An hour later, my bride walked away with the new ring, adorned in diamonds, wrapped around her old one.

I think I bought the ring for me as much as Sargie. I get to see that sparkle in her eyes that brings me so much joy.

On today's agenda: We stayed in Williamsburg last night and will be heading east this morning to tour the Amana Colonies. Sixty years ago, they had some of the best eating in the Midwest. Surely nothing's changed since then, has it?

Sargie has a dentist's appointment early this coming week, so we'll be heading north at some point. Neither of us are in any hurry, so I guess we'll land on Pentoga Road when we get there.

Meanwhile, just remember, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Whee haw, baby! Just a random poster I saw in the mall that best describes the fun that Sargie and I are having on this trip.