Well, it’s been a good week. All goals were accomplished except for the running with Mom thing. I guess that was a long shot, since she hates running. I did play tennis with Dad, however, so at least there was a family athletic event. And Mom and I tried to make eating bacon and pancakes into an athletic event this morning, so double kudos to us.
Today was the day I tried to accomplish the goal I was most looking forward to–hanging out in my old favorite spot and calling a friend to commemorate many similar phone calls circa 2002. Sadly, a phone camera didn’t do justice to the favorite spot.
In real life, it’s cozy and much more dynamic than this picture shows. It’s a substantial little hill, and there are geese in the pond and horses on the hillside. There’s a cute mill-ish building in the background, too. There used to be sheep, but unless they grew up to be horses in the past two years, they’ve been moved elsewhere (lamp chops, anyone?). I guess you’ll just have to believe me when I say that it’s a spot worthy of being a favorite.
Tomorrow is travel, travel, and more travel with a hint of reading thrown into the mix. My suitcase is significantly heavier for the return thanks to some book gifts and loans from family members. A few childhood stuffed animals might have snuck into my bag, too.
And as is always the case, I’m glad to be headed home. Being gone is great, but going home is even better. I’m looking forward to getting back into life with friends and the youth group and even work. I’m looking forward to my own slightly psychotic (and yet nearly perfect) dog, and I won’t even mind cooking my own meals again.
I’m also glad you won’t be there to witness my second flight connection in Chicago tomorrow. It’s a 36 minute connection, and the gates required a shuttle ride on my way here. Fingers definitely crossed.
On the Thanksgiving trip (or was it Easter?) I mentioned at the beginning of the week, my brother and I drove from Colorado to New Mexico (Arizona?… it was a long time ago) for a cheaper flight. We might have left with very little spare time, and there might have been a foot race along the way that made us go about 40 miles an hour for a good long way. By the time we got to the airport, my brother dropped me at the terminal and went to return the car with the hopes that I could make them wait for him. Bum sister that I am, that didn’t work out. I sprinted through the terminal, got the most amazing blisters of my life, and made it right as they were closing the boarding tunnel. It wasn’t pretty, and brother wasn’t so lucky. I’m hoping never to recreate that event.