So, Rachel grew up in Minnesota during her early years. Her father was the pastor at a little place called Souix Valley. We made a little detour to see her childhood home. It’s a church and a parsonage surrounded by beautiful foliage, and was worth the trip.
When we arrived, her mom happened to call. “You’ll never guess where I am,” Rachel told her.
We met the pastor and walked all around the buildings, inside and out.
Then it was down the road a little ways to the school she attended. It’s now owned by a guy now who rents out rooms to people to groom dogs and store stuff. The playground is overgrown, but still fun.
There was also a creek nearby. Somewhere along our weekend’s journeys, Gracen acquired a pickaxe. He was hoping for rocks to break up, so we trekked along with him. The pathway was riddled with hidden holes.
All in all, a great diversion, but the road was calling our name.