So there are things that I couldn't do while Dad was living. While still bummed about the reason why I can do them now, I guess I can morally do a little dance that I nevertheless can do them now. One of those is take the bus tour to the bottom of the quarry in my neighborhood, which happens once a year on a Saturday (which conflicted with taking Dad to and from dialysis), including today.
It's a hoot! Even though I know what a quarry is and have seen aerial photos, my brain still resolutely determined that I was going down a mine and wondered how a bus would do that. A quarry, quite open-faced, is much more bus-friendly, but still more than a little tricky. It's a dang impressive, even awe-inspiring place, apparently one foot shy of being 400 feet deep at the moment. The huge equipment was impressive as well, but more so was how tiny it looked. My pictures were OK, but not nearly as good as I would have liked. There's one last bus going at 2:30; I have half a mind to go back with the real camera. Heck, it's just $5 and I waited four years to go. Ehhhhhhh maybe. (The clothes-in-the-dryer-might-get-stinky factor enters in as well. Hmmmm.) Anyway, if you get a chance to tour a quarry, go! Next year I'll probably walk it!