It has become apparent to me that it has not been apparent to you that I am no longer in France. I didn't blog about leaving, I suppose because it was not an exciting or interesting event. But I did indeed leave, on Wednesday May 23rd, flying from Paris (Charles deGaulle) through Washington D.C. (Dulles) to Sacramento (ScoobyDoo). Since then, I have been in Davis, California, at my parents' home, the home I grew up in, sleeping mostly in the bed I slept in from 1989 through 1999. And, of course, days spent at your childhood home are not supposed to be as eventful as days spent in a foreign land. I didn't expect them to be, and they haven't been. I thought, therefore, that I would have ample time to catch you all up on what I did in Europe. However, it turns out that when I am very un-busy, it is more difficult for me to do anything. When I am super busy, I can get right on a task and bust it out in no time. Nothing to do today besides write 200-500 words about Florence? Next to impossible! Luckily, I took notes on my trip, so I am not in danger of forgetting much; it will just take some time for the notes to get translated into Bloggish.
As always, I have a much easier time writing 200 words about how hard it is to write 200 words about something. That is pathetically ridiculous. Or is it ridiculously pathetic? Or are those two things the same?
Finally, a picture that my sister took on our flight back from Seattle 10 days ago:
The Earth sure is something, isn't it?
1 comment:
By the way, that's a picture of the Columbia River, from near Mount St. Helens. You can see where the mouth of the river opens up at Astoria, and the Pacific Ocean beyond.
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