Not a Covered Wagon

I have the greatest internship ever. I get to dress up as an 1836 school teacher and teach 4-6th graders about life at a Military Fort in 1836. Yes, I'm in costume for this venture, and it is quite fun. We talk about teaching and learning in a one room school house, what would have happened if they got in trouble, how long they would have had school on Saturday, and what they would have eaten for lunch. I even lit a fire in the fireplace the other day. It took a while, but we had a fire. I've met some pretty sweet people as well. It's great.

Lately, I seem to be crisscrossing the country at regular intervals to see a few people who are far away and are very dear to my heart (namely the Boyfriend and the Sister). The Boyfriend lives on the West Coast, while the sister is in the Windy City, and I've been able to visit them both (though I must admit that the Sister has gotten the short end of the visiting stick). The need to purchase decent luggage is becoming increasingly apparent as I continue to make these travels as my red backpack from high school is nearing the end of its rope.

These meanderings in conjunction with my current place of employment have got me thinking about the progression of travel. Back in the day (around 1836), travel took a very long time. There were no airplanes and cars were not readily available to all. Railroads were slowly becoming available, but even that was a novelty. Walking, horses, wagons, and other types of wildlife were the transportation mechanisms of the day, none of which were terrible swift.

Even though my two people are far away, and I have to travel back and forth quite a bit, and eventually find a new backpack or cute carry-on bag, it really isn't that bad. The Sister will wing her way over to our house for Thanksgiving via little train, big train, and eventually automobile. The Boyfriend is eve farther away, but travelling to see him doesn't take 2 months. And although the gaps between seeing him are long, I am not traveling in a covered wagon hoping the donkey doesn't pass out along the way. So, I'll go unpack my bag from this weekend, find my red backpack and get ready for the next traveling adventure.