Deadblogging on the Illini
My word, that's a boring train.* I thought I might try to make it interesting this time, but I didn't have a window seat until Champaign. And by then there isn't much worth looking at.
Softball in Chinatown. (I think.) We didn't back out of Union Station the usual way, west to about Western, but instead south to... I don't know where. I have no idea what park that is. You'd think I'd be able to spot a dang softball diamond on Google Maps. In any case, it was a perfectly beautiful Independence Eve and I was stuck on a train that wasn't moving with a trixie hogging the window seat to read Women's Health and talk on the phone. Drove me batty.
Downtown Champaign, sort of.
This could be anywhere, but given the timestamp I'll guess somewhere north of Mattoon. We had stopped to let a freight train pass. Feh.
Happy 4th; it's my grandparents' anniversary.
Here's some flowers growing in their yard:
And some poison ivy growing in their shed:
And a raggedy robin:
And an indigo bunting:
*The Illini (part of the possibly doomed Illinois Service) is like the train they call the City of New Orleans, except it only goes as far as Carbondale and arrives at a much more reasonable hour. There are also a few additional stops, small towns with Web sites that keep crashing Bender. Nevermind, nobody cares.