This past weekend, Duncan went on his first road trip - a three-day genealogy trip to Quebec. He handled the long car rides like a pro; here he is stretching his legs at the picnic area at one of the service centres on the way there.
We stayed at a hotel in Cornwall, where he settled in pretty well, except for being a bit worried that there were other people in HIS hotel. But he was delighted to find that hotels come with bathtubs:
It rained, or at least drizzled, pretty much the whole time so he was a soggy pup, but he really seemed to enjoy prowling the cemeteries looking for cousins.
And here's the highlight of the trip: GGGG Uncle Adam Paxton (kids, add one more G), the earliest immigrant in the family that I've found, who was born in Scotland in 1798, came to Canada, and did the whole log cabin thing. (Duncan had to be told that dancing on his stone was simply not done in the best circles, so he nibbled the grass instead.)
The bathtub picture made me laugh out loud at work.
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