Home again, home again

Hey ya’ll, I’m back from my sojourn to Ashtabula, Ohio. Which might be partially responsible for my use of the word “ya’ll”. We flew up to surprise my dad on his 50th birthday, and he was surprised indeed. We did some partying, played some board games, had good times. We’ll do it again when he turns 100.

However, it’s now 1:15 am, I just got home from the most uncomfortable flight in my life, I’ve got two slugs of NyQuil in me and I’m about ready to go experience the righteous fury of my bed. Here’s a quick anecdote for you, though: laying around this morning wondering what we should do to kill a few hours before we had to be at the airport, my stepmother suggested we get on the computer and search “Ashtabula + tourism”. We laughed it off, pretty sure that Google would respond to “Ashtabula + tourism” with a confused “eh?”

Turns out, though, that we would have found covered bridges. Ashtabula county happens to be the “Covered Bridge Capital of Ohio”. In fact, they’re Covered Bridge Festival is so off the hook it takes up two days. So there you go, Internet; now you know where to go if you like your bridges covered.