I have mixed feelings about Abilene. First of all, it’s not easy to get to because there is a lot of Kansas. Not that Kansas isn’t a perfectly nice state, but it is a challenge to drive that many miles of empty land and remain sane.
And there’s the food. Banjo Man loves to go out to eat at night, but I don’t. And Monday night in Abilene all I wanted to do was put on my nightgown, eat some yogurt and watch “The Bachelorette”. But no, life wasn’t going to be that simple. The sweet young thing at the hotel recommended “Ike’s Place” for an informal meal.
It looked awful from the outside. And from the inside, too, but we’ve seen enough episodes of “Diners, Drive Ins and Dives” to keep an open mind. Anyway, my meal was cold and such a mess (how do you ruin a bun-less beef patty with mushrooms on top?) they didn’t charge us for it. And I had a touch of food poisoning the next morning.
Tuesday morning–after I’d recovered enough to be a tourist again–we went to the Eisenhower home and museum.
I gained a lot of respect and admiration for the man. Ike, about whom it was said, “Even his enemies liked him” had an incredible talent for leadership. We toured his childhood home, where his mother lived and which had been preserved exactly the way she left it.
I love touring old houses and seeing how people lived.
Yes, the first thing I notice are the quilts. Always.
The museum was enormous, with at least half of it dedicated to World War II. Banjo Man was in heaven.
And then we went to lunch at a place called The Farmhouse, outside of town. It was supposed to be good, and yet…there was no one there. It looked like a haunted house, inside and out. The food was okay, but I was understandably suspicious of anything that came out of that ancient kitchen, especially since no one else was eating there. I couldn’t wait to leave and go back into town. I had pictures to take for Story Man’s western research!
A man at the History Center had given me a diagram that showed where the old places used to be and what they are now.
For instance, this is where the Bull’s Head Saloon was:
Banjo Man wanted to cheer me up, so he offered a quick visit to an antique shop before we headed out of town. We had to get as far as Colby, Kansas in order to make the next day–a visit to relatives in Colorado–work.
I didn’t buy anything but I took pictures of quilts, which is almost as much fun as buying them.
And of course no one needs one of these writing tablets any more.I still don’t understand why children aren’t taught “cursive” any longer. How are they supposed to sign their names when picking up prescriptions at the pharmacy? When buying a house or a car?
But I digress….
Banjo Man made one more stop before we drove onto the interstate. He is shopping for a hat, but the ones he saw at the Last Stop In Abilene were too “western” and I think he wanted one with a more universal, tropical style.
He is such a diva. Really, he is. Unlike Ike.