Joni wrote me one of the most incredible inquiry emails I’ve ever received, full of tales of flannel, rubber boots, jam-smeared faces, and a family full of laughter and love. Every word of it was true.
After a slight misadventure wherein I got lost in my search for “Central Blissville,” we met up in time for an evening of marshmallow roasting and a walk along a dusty dirt road. The geese migrated overhead and a man on a four-wheeler popped a wheelie right in front of us. Near sunset the light made the trees erupt into brilliant yellows and reds. Everything was simple and perfect.