Current elevation: 574 feet

Home at last.  I am tired.  And so, so grateful.  I've had an amazing two weeks, going from sea level one week to 11,000 feet above sea level (Estes Cone) the next.  I've met tons of great people, gotten to know acquaintances better, and caught up with old friends.  I've karaoked, hiked my butt off, ate amazing amounts of food so good it should be illegal, and indulged in French, Portuguese and Californian wine.  And Newport beer.  And the very best part of it all was rounding the corner from security at the airport tonight and hearing my little girl scream, "Mommy!" while running into my arms.  I knew I missed her, but I couldn't believe the overwhelming feelings of love and relief and home I felt when I scooped her up.  I hadn't planned on crying, but there I was, tears squeaking out as I hugged my girl hard.

My next few days are hectic, as I have to prepare for the neighborhood garage sale Saturday morning and take care of a few other loose ends that have piled up over the past two weeks.  My sale ends at noon and then I'm off to see my nephew play football.  (I love that he's playing, but I predict that I'll sit in the stands with my stomach tied in knots, willing other players to stay the f*ck away from him.  I did that when my little brother played hockey in high school.  Although football and hockey are two sports I enjoy watching, they are entirely different games when someone you love is out on the field/ice.)  Then that night are the mouse races to benefit his team.  Sunday I have nothing on the schedule.  Well, there's church, but that's actually relaxing and calming.  Except when we get the bonehead priest.

Ah, so.  I am home, and all feels right (except for M's absence...he's in RI again) and good and quiet.  As much as I love the purple majesty of the mountains, the blue eyes of a certain little girl mean so much more.

I've unpacked, taken care of a couple things that just couldn't wait, and am going to go fall into bed.  My bed.  Bliss.