Although some Kansans got a free circus in their backyards thanks to tornadoes, there was very little action around our part of the state. Actually, it was a pretty big disappointment. I went to bed at eight (not my usual bedtime, but I was exhausted) and slept soundly.
For those of you who don’t know how to get to WaKeeney, you get in your car and head west, and right after you think, “I can’t believe how long this is taking,” you wait another hour, and you’re there. Two years ago when my brother was moving from Los Angeles to Saint Louis, his car broke down in Russell, Kansas. I had to drive out and bring him to Lawrence while my father drove over from Saint Louis to take him the rest of the way. Things were fine until I passed Salina, at which point distances doubled themselves, clocks slowed to a crawl, and taking my limited knowledge of the Theory of Relativity and applying it in reverse, I aged a thousand years while those who weren’t driving through western Kansas aged only two hours.
I’m not a Kansas hater. I just like the state a whole lot less out there. My favorite part of the state is the Flint Hills. (None of the pictures I can find on the Intertubes is especially inspiring; I’ll have to take my own picture one time when we go out there.)