Earlier this year, as Fuzzy and I were preparing for our two week sojourn in the midwest, I got a call from a cousin I never knew I had, inviting us to a competing family reunion, two weeks after, in Pennsylvania. Unlike my great-aunt’s 90th, this reunion would have involved a visit to the town where my grandfather and his sisters and brothers actually grew up.

I knew, almost from the moment he called, that we wouldn’t be able to attend my cousin’s event – the timing was just bad – but I started looking at Pennsylvania bed and breakfast websites, and directories of expensive hotels. I don’t camp, but I love the personal service of B&B’s and I have a great affection for froufrou hotels. Either one will do.

I’ve never spent much time in Pennsylvania, and I still kind of want to visit – we have other family nearby, and friends on the way, and Fuzzy’s never really been to the east coast at all.

For the moment, however, it remains a trip we’ve yet to take.