The weather and roads were fine, so we had some extra time once we got to town. I drove us around Williston a little bit, narrating as we passed points of interest from my frequent trips to Williston during my childhood. When we got to the pool, we were glad to be early because the seating is limited, to say the least. Dad and Beverly joined us (they live only about an hour away) to attend their first swim meet and watch their granddaughters compete. It was a good meet for them to have attended because not only did each girl improve on her times from previous meets and earn some ribbons (making parents and grandparents alike proud) but the meet itself was also short and sweet. Unlike the last few swim meets (remember this and this?), this one didn't obligate us to be there very long; all the girls' events started and ended within about two hours.
We're often asked, "Are they twins?" about Suzanna and Abigail. Yes, they look similar--all three of them do, especially with their swim caps on--but twins?
We were all ready to eat dinner at that point, so we joined Dad and Beverly at Dakota Farms, a family restaurant on the Million Dollar Way (Williston's nickname for the stretch of highway that serves both Highways 2 and 85 and becomes 2nd Ave. W in town and leads to Main St.). The servers were busy and not too concerned about approaching our table until they had dealt with every last need of the customers at all the surrounding tables--not even just to say, "I'll return in just a moment." Not only did we have ample time to decide on what we wanted to order, we had time to memorize the menu in its entirety before one server finally came over. She didn't feel compelled to register any friendly signs in her facial expressions, either, so it was hard not to suspect that she resented our being there with our expectation that she serve us when she had better things to do. As a former restaurant server myself, I can understand being harried, but I never can comprehend why some servers--when feeling the pressure of a busy dining room--are outright rude to customers . . . or why they retain their employment when their demeanor repels customers.
Okay, off my soapbox now. The food was fine once it arrived, and of course the company was the main reason for our being there, anyway. After a nice visit, we parted ways with Dad and Beverly, made a quick stop at a grocery store on our way out of town, and returned to Dickinson. The ride home was as quiet and sleepy as the morning's drive. Thank goodness I had bought snacks to keep me awake!