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A Jaunt North









Dad's Mom went to college in Oberlin, Ohio in the 1950s. I'd never met her, and in June 2012, when she traveled from the East Coast to attend a school reunion, we ventured north to spend the weekend with her.

The trip was just 2.5 hours. Except for my cushiony travel bed and blankets, it paled by comparison to our trek to Florida. Take the scenery, for example. No rolling Kentucky hills of bluegrass. No majestic Tennessee mountains. No roadside Georgia peach and pecan stands. And since we're talking about Ohio, no ocean or shoreline to liven things up either. Just 50 miles of I-71 North chock full of cars, and one small town after another once we left the highway. Dad, who attended college in southwestern Ohio, tells me all small towns in Ohio are similar. You're bound to find a High Street laid out near Main Street, gas stations, coffee shops, hardware stores, fast-food restaurants and, these days, tattoo parlors, too. I liked the county roads the most because we went more slowly. I don't know about other Chihuahuas, but this one is a gazer. I enjoy watching the world around me pass by.


Before we met up with Grandma, who was attending a lecture, we drove around the southern part of town to scout out a place to have a Sunday barbeque. Mom had packed a cooler with all kinds of goodies, and the weather forecast was excellent. After we inspected a local park with a fixed barbeque stand, we met Grandma. She was surprised when I barked and barked at her when she approached me in the car. She didn't know that's what I do. But when she noticed my wagging tail, she relaxed, said my name, and all was well.


The main campus area consists of large plots of well-tended grass punctuated with benches and giant shade trees. We explored it on foot. Over there was a plaque commemorating the inventor of Aluminum, Charles Martin Hall. Across the way was the Conservatory of Music, where a young Grandma had practiced and sang during the prior century. I saw many old brick and stone buildings with castle-like turrets and slate roofs. One had been Grandma's dormitory back in the day. We wandered around this way for a while and eventually took a break in an oriental garden. Near there I got a glimpse of, well, my future.


You've seen the photos in earlier posts; I was still a small fry. Dad used to hide me inside his down jacket and sneak me into Sam's Club (until they caught us and kicked us out). So when we bumped into another Mom with her girl fawn-type Chihuahua, we were surprised at her size. About double mine, as you can see in the photo. Mom says she couldn't have imagined that I would ever grow up that long and large. More about my emerging growth in a later post...


Did I tell you that I'm bilingual? I know English and Korean, and one of the first Korean words I learned is gogi. It's a generic Korean term for meat: beef, pork, chicken, fish. I like them all and enjoy it when Mom spices up my food with little bits of it. Which explains why you see me licking my lips in the photo as Mom prepared steaks for Grandma. We had a great time together, brought Mom back to her dormitory, and said goodbye. Dad had to go to work the next day, and there were more trips to be taken. One still brings chills to my spine, and I'll tell you about it next time.


For now, thanks for reading my blog.


Tango

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