Wausau is a cute, oldish, mid-america town in the north-central Wisconsin. The many different streets wind in bizzare directions, often dumping you onto a one-way avenue, and always in the wrong direction. As we puttered around town looking for our B&B, the Rosenberry Inn, Hedda and I could not help but enjoy the brightly colored autumn leaves that clothed this town in vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. And our host at the inn told us that the season was already past its peak! I am often truly amazed by the beauty nature creates.
As we departed this morning, Hedda commented to me that, while the town is incredibly beautiful, she could never live here. Everything is shut down on Sunday, which is simply intolerable. In our neighborhood in Chicago, there are a thousand things to see and do on any given Sunday, and all within walking distance of our apartment. The District had better provide a similar atmosphere. I am simply not ready to settle down into a quiet suburb yet.