Janet and I were not really enticed into a vacation. I think we were driven into one: Driven by months of alarm clocks, clogged drains, shedding cats, and a million other things that each cried out for attention. And driven by the heebee-jeebees that come after a 23 straight days of rain.
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Anyplace other than western Sonoma County looked good to us. An eager travel agent could have sold us a vacation in Detroit; we would have accepted, paid, and packed our bags, just like that. "Love Canal?" "Sounds delightful, let's go."
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We have talked in the past of going to the Canadian Rockies to see Lake Louise, but these ideas never got beyond the planning stages. Until now. Setting herself to the task, Janet pursued the details of arranging this trip with great enthusiasm.
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Our flight left soggy San Francisco on the morning of April 23, arriving to bright skies in Calgary. We rented our car and drove, without delay, directly West, towards the mountains. Within 2 hours, we entered Banff.
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