My kind of town

As we drove into North Dakota on US Route 2, which we picked up at St. Ignace, MI, and are following across the northern Midwest, we came to Larimore, ND. My town! "But wait," you say. "You spell your name with two "r's."  True. BUT, it should be spelled with only one "r." Why ? Because, my parents named me for Larimore Foster, and he spelled his name with one "r." But for some inexplicable reason, on my birth certificate, it is spelled "Larrimore." I never had a chance to ask them why.

                         Welcome to Larimore, ND

                                      I'm historic ! . . . 

                               . . .   and  I'm all wet ! .  . . 

                                . . . yet  smart . . . 

                            . . . a provider of low-income housing . . . 

 

                            . . . and a beary nice guy . . . 

                                          . . . generous . . . 

                              . . .  strong . . . 

                                           . .  . welcoming . . . 

                                         .  .  .  happy . . .  

                              . . . trendy . . . 

. . .  wise . . .

                                   . . . yet  humble . .  . 

                         .  . . open and vulnerable . . . 

         . . .  yet uplifting, in a down-to-earth sort of way. . . . 

                                      . . . and versatile! 

What a town!!