Wow, it has been a crazy exciting couple of weeks. My travels have ranged from the Hilton in midtown Manhattan one weekend, to a tent in the Sierra Nevada Mountains the next. From the BlogHer '12 conference in New York City to the Rubicon Trail in the Jeep in Northern California. Coast to coast baby, without much time in between to unpack and repack bags. And although the trips were not without their hiccups, like spending the night in the Chicago Midway airport and a bear sniffing at my tent in the middle of the night, it has been an amazing two weeks!
During both trips I met a lot of new people and the natural question that always came up was, "where are you from?" I sometimes hesitate awkwardly at this question as I grew up and spent many years in Wisconsin, but now live in Arizona. I don't feel like I've lived in Arizona long enough to claim to be "from here." And although I love all kinds of things about living here, I still miss the green and the autumn and the people in Wisconsin so much it hurts at times. So, given this inner turmoil, when asked I usually go into a too long explanation of being from Wisconsin originally but moving to Arizona 3 years ago, and by that time the person has stopped listening.
Yesterday afternoon as we were on the 11th hour of our road trip back from California, we were remarking how our desert was prettier than the California desert. We have saguaro cacti and bigger mountains. Our skies are bluer and our clouds are puffier, and our rain has that smell. While we had an amazing time on our trip, we were tired and dirty and so excited to be back to our dogs, our pool, our home. It hit me that 3 years almost exactly since moving here, this has truly become home, and I can now answer that question more confidently.
After being without internet the last few days, I am catching up on writing, and there will be many more detailed blog posts later this week about recent adventures. I am excited to tell some stories and share tons of pictures. But for now I am unloading duffel bags, shaking off the dust, and doing umpteen loads of laundry. Home is where you unpack, and there's nothing like being home.
During both trips I met a lot of new people and the natural question that always came up was, "where are you from?" I sometimes hesitate awkwardly at this question as I grew up and spent many years in Wisconsin, but now live in Arizona. I don't feel like I've lived in Arizona long enough to claim to be "from here." And although I love all kinds of things about living here, I still miss the green and the autumn and the people in Wisconsin so much it hurts at times. So, given this inner turmoil, when asked I usually go into a too long explanation of being from Wisconsin originally but moving to Arizona 3 years ago, and by that time the person has stopped listening.
Yesterday afternoon as we were on the 11th hour of our road trip back from California, we were remarking how our desert was prettier than the California desert. We have saguaro cacti and bigger mountains. Our skies are bluer and our clouds are puffier, and our rain has that smell. While we had an amazing time on our trip, we were tired and dirty and so excited to be back to our dogs, our pool, our home. It hit me that 3 years almost exactly since moving here, this has truly become home, and I can now answer that question more confidently.
After being without internet the last few days, I am catching up on writing, and there will be many more detailed blog posts later this week about recent adventures. I am excited to tell some stories and share tons of pictures. But for now I am unloading duffel bags, shaking off the dust, and doing umpteen loads of laundry. Home is where you unpack, and there's nothing like being home.
