Hogwarts, reprised

We moved Amigo into Gryffindor Tower today –  I mean, we moved Amigo into his apartment for the duration of his session at the training center for the blind. Why Gryyffindor? You don’t think I’d land him in Slytherin, do you? Be realistic, you muggles, you. Here’s a memoir of our first visit to Hogwarts in August.

The Hogwarts Express, Part I:

We called a cab to take us from our hotel near all the modern travel amenities (like the airport and the Mall of America) to the NFB Training Center in Minneapolis. Amigo is planning to attend one of the centers, and this one is high on the list. The taxi driver, however, wasn’t so enlightened. He fiddled with his GPS, asked us if we were sure of the address, and called his central office before he could get us on the road. When we got to the destination, I realized why he couldn’t figure it out on his own.

A long fence…

We walked along the stone (concrete?) fence and saw —

lions? tigers? bears? dragons?

…these creatures guarding the gates. Then up the steps to the front entrance:

I’m not sure what’s guarding the main door, but it’s big and ornate. Looking more closely, we saw this.

Can you hear it? The door carving is moaning, “Ebenezer…. Ebenezer Scrooge…”

Oops, wrong British novelist. Anyway, the mood was set.

The cabbie must have been a Muggle. The mansion was obviously Minnesota’s answer to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, bewitched such that ordinary non-magical folk would never know it was there. If he could have seen the mansion, he might have seen this.

Never Tickle Sleeping Dragons.

There are too many details to share in just one post. Stay tuned: you’ll enjoy more of the Midwest’s answer to Hogwarts. Just wait. I need another butterbeer to quench my thirst before I continue.

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