Gypsy Me

Just checking in from cloudy Arizona. With apologies, because I'm very tired, and can only think in small sentences.

No paragraphs today.

Here's the view from my window.

When my dad picked me up at the airport last night, he said I looked like a gypsy in my funny little hat. I liked the sound of that.

Gypsy = free spirit--the dictionary says so. It's also means traveler. Or someone who doesn't necessarily fit in anywhere. Or who is able to fit in everywhere.

I feel all those things.

This hat makes me happy. Can you tell? Even I like my face in these pics.

It was a gift from a friend. And another friend helped me confirm the choice. And I always want hats, but don't think of myself as a likely hat-wearer.

I think I think those people are braver than me. With more interesting personalities.

But this hat fits. In all the ways. It was like Harry and his wand. I just knew.

Anyway, I'm back at Mom and Pop's. After stops in Utah and California. When I get home, it will be a 5180 mile trip in air miles, as calculated on this cool website I just found. 

Evan is currently ~5561 air miles from me. New Zealand is ~6937.
Just some perspective.

Utah was delightful.

Because of friends, temples, family, and mountains.

And so was California.

Because of more friends, sushi, yarn, a great bookstore in Mountain View, and the fact that I met my goal for Instagram followers on the business account I manage.

Mom hasn't been well, so I came, but she's better now.

A double-shot of lung problems laid her low for a while, but a sharp nurse practitioner was on the job and dispensed the levaquin.

I'm a fan. Of the CNP and the antibiotics. And mom's healing lungs.

When I arrived last night, I was relieved to see that she looks okay.

Time to go pick some oranges.

And take a nap.

Just checking in.