Day Forty-Two Sunday, September 18, 1936
Somewhere Over Spain

On our way. Prince still doesn't like flying. Smart dog.

Had a jarring thought earlier. Miss Poppins was insisting Dorothy get some sleep during the dirigible ride. She said something, didn't quite hear what, about how Dorothy might be a princess where we were going but was still a growing girl. I remembered the publication date on that copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and then... well, then it occurred to me that Louise was born in 1893.

That little girl is probably older than my late wife.