There's something about going on a road trip that makes even the familiar feel vaguely exotic. You drive out of your own driveway, down stretches of local roads with purpose. Slowly the path becomes less familiar, and you are truly on your way. (Conversely, when you retrace your step at the end of the journey, there is a sweet sense of intimacy in being reunited with familiar places and your own zip code as you saunter home.)
I've always loved that old adage, "knee high by the forth of July," which was certainly coined before the tough hybrids of today were grown. Even in this wet, wet year the corn nearly surpassed Bei Bei by the end of June.
Besides being wet, it's been cooler than the average Illinois summer. But as July gets underway, it seems the heat and humidity Illinois summers are infamous for is at our door step. Mr Johnson calls that hazy, summer weather - corn-growing weather (and if he's feeling especially nostalgic, he'll drop the 'g' from the gerund!) And then he'll mention how in stickiest part of late July you can almost hear the corn growing.
As we sped off to Michigan last weekend, I asked if the girls would be willing to pose by the corn on the edge of a Kendall county field. Only Bei Bei was game.
Here's our baby in local Corn Country ...
