roadtrip, Champaign-Urbana

I decided it would be fun to wake up and not fall back to sleep. I've just finished writing Monday's swim practice. I almost wish I had work here at home with me. Ah well, blogging will have to suffice.

I don't talk much about work on this blog, and I'm not going to get into it too much here either, but I will note that this was a work-related jaunt south. I had to deliver some rare books to our consortium in Champaign-Urbana (that's two cities, side-by-side, for the non-Illinoisians reading this). I could have done a Monday drive down, I know. Conrad has long wanted us to do this drive together, though, so that he could stop in with me at an antique shop in the little town of Paxton. Fiestaware, of course. Happily, the consortium was willing, as was my boss, and on an altogether sunny, pleasant, mild Saturday, we set out after swim practice.

Full disclosure: after 8 years in Chicago, I still know very little of the rest of the state. Heck, I barely know any of the suburbs. Outside of Chicagoland I've been to Bloomington-Normal once and to Champaign-Urbana about 4 times. That's it. Not even to the state capital, Springfield. I feel a little ashamed of that, I have to say.

We dropped off the books right on time, then drove through downtown Champaign in search of parking and a light lunch. I love college towns like that. They tend to have good services and amenities, they tend to have some attractive buildings and history,

and the campus types are all over the place. The coffee house we ended up in
may not have been the best food in town (we really have no idea), but it was crammed full of younger folk on laptops and earnest-looking grad students. Love it. And I'm not mocking. It's a comfortable setting for me. Hmmmm... should I do a PhD one day?

Onward, back to Chicago. If you've never seen Illinois, understand that it's darn flat. In BC we think, "Ho-hum, another mountain, another tree". In Illinois, the cornfields stretch to the horizon, and there's little change in the landscape otherwise. I drove a spell, and took us into Paxton. Alas, the shop was gone. We stopped in at the Carnegie library and inquired, but all they could do was try the number in the book for us.

Undaunted, we drove on and exited for Gilman.
On the way down, Conrad had seen some old coal elevators and wanted to look at the structures a little more closely. As we passed through Gilman, we came upon a little antique mall that was open. No Fiestaware (and only two pieces of Russel Wright, neither of which we need), but a fun 15 minutes of browsing. We shortly after came about as close to the elevators as we figured we could: the local cemetery. The sun was getting lower in the sky, the shadows from the gravestones, monuments, and trees were lengthening.


Some photos there, then back in the car and bound for home.
The sun set on our trip through the cornfields downstate.