Train station

We took a trip to the train station platform, because no matter how many times my brother has visited us by train he always travels too late at night for Calvin to take in the pleasure of welcoming or seeing off a friend or loved one on this, his favorite mode of transportation (which he has never actually experienced). There is something neat and old fashioned about listening for the horn to signal it's coming, and then it's going, about watching for a first glimpse of the headlight coming around the bend, and then a last glimpse of the caboose around a different one. It was somehow a more meaninful parting, a more organic way to send off travelers, who were actually going to Spain and not, obviously, ultimately by rail. Then, because we were on the topic, on our way home we stopped by the AAA office to pick up a map of Spain (and used our membership for something other than the assurance it provides against being stuck in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire). I see us spending some time in Spain next, don't you?