Although I've never seen one of these growing at home, I hear they're very common in these parts. It's a plant called "Bird of Paradise." And it's very, very cool.

Maybe a little back story is in order: A couple of years ago when Bob and Brenna Redpath hired me to collaborate on the design of their blog (From Here to Eternity) that would chronicle the dispensing of most of their things, their jobs and their home so they could travel with their children for a year, our connection was immediate. Which isn't THAT unusual. I've made several friendships with people who started out as clients. This time a feeling of kinship emerged that had to do with even more than a shared fascination with moving from place to place and collecting stories from interesting people. The rhythms that appeared during our long-distant meetings made it feel as if these were friends who'd been with me for a long time. And so they traveled Europe, then moved on to Morocco then Peru... and then they came home on August 10. Excited for them, still, my West Coast destination didn't factor them into my itinerary. Until, that is, a flight query gave me a single result among several pages of results, that included a 3+ hour layover in LA. Hmmm! I know some people in LA! People I would quite love to see! And so I emailed the Redpaths and asked them to weigh in on a little idea that had to do with me manuvering an airport I'd never entered, departing the secure area, having a quick cup of coffee with friends who would have themselves, maneuvered traffic of the likes I had yet to comprehend, all so I could immediately rush back through serurity in time to make my connection to Seattle.

Their response was quick: my plan could work, though security might be tricky, but it was worth discussing. And? The drive from LA to Seattle is 19 hours - they were talking about it. Um. That's a lot of driving. Even for people who just spent 13 months traveling to places they've never been. But it was the mere suggestion that triggered Plan C: Anybody who would would even consider the possibility of driving that many hours to meet me would probably be willing to entertain the idea of letting me come to their home and spend a couple of days in their company. Right?

It's imperative that I stop right here and acknowledge the incredulity that could emerge upon a reader's discovery that I, A Good Southern Girl With All Her Manners And Sensitivity To Social Appropriateness, was inviting myself to go visit people I'd never met before - for 3 days! People who had not, as of that time, found a home or car, who had yet to even see the things they'd left in storage a year ago. People Who Made The Assertion "We're Kinda' Busy" scream with ludicrous quantities of understatement. Was I out of my everloving mind? Did my Momma' not rear me right? All I can say is it was exactly the thing to do. And so I did. I just asked them what they thought about this alternative plan.

Their response was just as quick as the first: "THIS is the plan we like!" And so I sat there looking at my computer screen, giddy with the possibilities rushing through my head. Could I? Would I be able to make such a plan work? Not only could I, but that is exactly what I did. I rechecked the various plans and itineraries of my other friends whose schedules had been factored into my original travel ideas, and a couple of days later I went to work on making it happen for real. I bought a ticket to LA (the only ticket so far, I might add - nothing but a loosely-formed set of ideas factored into the second leg of my trip.) Never mind. I now had a one-way ticket to LA. Breathe. Now email Brenna and Bob and tell them you did it.

Five minutes later, I heard the distinctive Skype ring and when I answered, Brenna was on the other end, squealing the exact sound I'd been hearing inside my head since I'd booked the flight. We talked for a half hour as they filled me in on the key details of their lives since they'd returned to American soil. And then: "How long can you stay?" I answered, "I'll leave on Tuesday." Silence on the other end, and then, "But you'll miss everything! There's so much we have to show you!" Followed by more moments of silence as I recalled and then responded, "Well I haven't booked a departing flight yet. That's just when I thought I probably should leave." To which I heard, "Well stay, then! We want you to stay!" Inner Southern Girl stood up and started waving her hand in a frenzy, giving off indications that she was headed for a convulsion. And then I replied anyway, "But you have so much to do. People to see. Cars to buy. School and jobs to start!" "Stay anyway! It will be so much fun!" As genuine an invitation I've ever received. If an hour over coffee at an airport would not be enough time to enjoy the kind of first meeting we all wanted, neither would a quick weekend. At least that's what permitted me to entertain the thought as I pondered it for the next couple of days, as conflicted as I've ever been about any decision. (Again and again the part of me asking whether in spite of their invitation, wouldn't it be rude for me to extend my trip in light of their own "reentry situation.")

Still... I bought a ticket leaving LA on September 9, followed by a flight back to Greensboro for October 11. Since the plan was formulated and I told my friends, I frequently heard - still hear, "What are you going to do in LA? What will you see while you're there!" From the beginning, my initial reaction has been one of hesitant confusion as I shrug and answer, "Well I'm going to see the Redpaths!" As if this answer alone is a sufficient response to The Ideal Travel Destination For Us All. I mean, isn't the idea of sitting across a table, morning coffee in hand, exchanging stories and ideas, in person, with Bob and Brenna Redpath, while Ella wakes up with her morning pears and Owen shuffles in to find some cereal... isn't that enough? Isn't this almost-constant laughter WHY people go to other places and meet new people? And running through the yard while Owen shoots me with the Nerf gun, ineffective at the use of the retaliatory weapon he's given me to protect myself, hiding behind the fig tree in the yard of the home they moved into mere days ago, shooting into the orange tree as I miss even his leg? And Ella showing me the tiny soft alpaca she got in Peru or reading aloud to me? Sure, of course I'll see "The LA Sights" while I'm here. And they'll be exciting and amazing, because there ARE so many new and interesting things to see while I'm here. But just as importantly, I'll finally enjoy the company of this family I've gotten to know for the past two years from a distance, and meet some of their friends, like Paul, who came by a half hour after I'd woken yesterday - my first morning here - from whom I heard of their shared time in Serbia last year. Paul brought Brenna's guitar back, and sometime this week I think she's going to play it and sing for me. Or with me, even, if I should find the nerve to sing aloud, along with a woman whose career elements includes professional singing.

They're showing me "their LA" which will include some of the places that appear in the tour books, but even better - "ordinary LA people" living their daily LA lives, experiencing this area from the inside. Right now as I write this and then get back to cropping some photos for a Greensboro client, the children are visiting with friends, Bob is editing video footage from Chucuito, Peru, and Brenna is practicing Further the Sky which she's singing soon. Later I'll hear more stories from this past year along with any hard-won lessons they want to share, which might help me in my own aspirations to learn how to really travel. Because I've got this little idea that if I'd like to find some travel mentors, this family is a great place to start.

PS: Due to a little matter about how you can't get high speed internet hooked up immediately, even in LA, by asking nicely, this blog post was written hours and hours ago, and I'm now posting it after we've returned home from dinner with more friends. A dinner not unike so many gatherings in Greensboro, with the common thread of kind people, funny stories, amazing food and drinks, and that familiar warmth that emerges over time but is always extended immediately to friends of friends. Their LA thus-far is turning out to be right up my alley...

My biggest mistake which turned out to be my biggest smart move was agreeing with my friend that I would come spend the night at her house before leaving town. This forced me to be packed and ready to walk out the door at 5pm 7:04pm last night. Worst move because it was just hard and stressful and kicked my butt to handle all the stuff I needed to do yesterday before I headed to her house. Biggest smart move? Well, because a) I got to see my friends (this friend AND her mom with whom I hitched a ride,) for the first time in many weeks, and that's always always fun, and b) I got a trial run.

On travel trial runs: We like them. And what I'm talking about is that tiny matter of how airlines now charge an extra fee if you're going to check a bag. And how it's impossible for me to imagine managing my life for 6 weeks with the amount of items I can legally carry onto an airplane with me. So yea, I'll pay your new baggage checking fees. BUT there's no way I'm gonna' be willing to pay the exorbitant overage fees if my bag weighs in at, oh, lets say for the sake of entertainment that perhaps your bag weighs about 58.5 lbs. Or so. Yay digital bathroom scales. And unless you want to hike that fee way up, that bag has to weigh 50 lbs and not a smidge over. 

So I got to my friend's house - 2 1/2 hours late - all tired with achey back, sleepy and wired last night, concerned that perhaps I'd left more than just my car charger for my iPhone (mostly not needed, but I do anticipate that coming in handy on one leg of this trip,) and (I cringe to admit this to you,) my favorite brand of sweetner for my coffee. Shut up. We all have our quirks. Probably yours is just as weird as mine.

And then my friend? The one who has to get out of bed at some fantastic hour like 5:30am daily with her little ones, probably didn't have one bit of fun helping me go through that bag and weed out all the stuff I absolutely didn't need. Large toothpaste? Never mind it's already paid for and I have a tiny travel one. That stuff isn't light. Same for my big bottle of conditioner. And two pairs of flipflop-style sandals. And some of the razors, shave cream too. On and on it went, me chucking stuff into a bag until finally I was able to weigh in at 48.5 lbs today. Yay me. As friend pointed out, sure I'll have to buy more while I'm away, but this stuff will be waiting for me when I return.

Not that I did any such culling for my carry on bag. And since I wanted to have me some options once I'm on the other coast, with the ability to pack any number and shape of other small bags for shorter trips, I put one terrific turns-into-a-little-backpack Eagle Creek shoulder bag with my laptop in it, inside this honkin backpack. (In the picture, the brown one carries the laptop, and a few other incidental things likechargers and etc. - all that gets closed up and put down inside the Adidas one on the left. Along with all KINDS of other things!) The side pockets hold things like Teva sandals and a heavy-but-compact tripod and my camera, removed from its typical huge bag and nestled, instead, in this lovely little children's padded/insulated lunchbox I found by accident at Target. Handy the things they're making the yungins these days! The size was perfect and I cut mondo dollars out of my spending by not buying yet another bag intended for hauling cameras. Or by generally removing the "this is meant for travel" element entirely. Basically I needed it for padding, not carrying, so it doesn't really matter that it looks like a little red lunch box.

Now here's where I went awry. Books. Books are heavy. And because I'm not currently engrossed in any one book, every book (of the many, many) that was presented to me or which I picked up, just didn't capture my delight enough that I knew for sure that I would want to read it on the plane. Which means I kept tossing book after book into my shoulder bag. I won't even bother to tell you how many books I brought with me. But I'll tell you THIS. Except for the borrowed ones (which might get shipped back home,) I'll likely be leaving most of those behind when I return. Still? I loved being able to reach down into my bag on this first little hour long flight and grabbing any ole book I wanted. That's a lot of hours to keep my easily distracted mind occupied. Just sayin...

The down side to all this? I was That Woman in line at security. I like to think I wasn't, since I was as efficient as a person can possibly be with that many things being removed from and tucked back into other things, but yea. Compared to usual? I added a good 10 seconds or more to each end of my walk through that little portal. 

The other down side? Never mind my Honkin' Bag That I Checked is a magnificent Eddie Bauer duffel with wheels and all kinds of hidden compartments... my carry on? Yea, kinda' heavy. At least it's a backpack, but really wheels would have been nice.

Never mind. I'm on my way. And since the first couple of weeks of my trip will be spent with The King And Queen Of Travel, I'm confident they'll have all kinds of tips and tricks for me by the time I head on to Seattle.

Now. I've bought some Wi-Fi access for this stretch in the ATL airport. Better go clock some work hours so the expense will not be in vain.

Hope your weekend is starting out as great as mine is!

Which I did, eventually, on a day when thoughts of I Don't Think I Can Bear It One More Month If I Can't Just GO Somewhere Already! swirled through my mind. I spent a Saturday afternoon immersing myself in the profiles of CS members, and other documentation, trying to wrap my mind around whether I could, in fact, see myself as an active participant in a community that connects formerly complete strangers so that travelers would have a place to stay and those not currently traveling could still meet interesting people from their homes. And my answer was yes! Of course I can! I mean, if you stretch the definition a bit, I've been "Couch Surfing" for ages! Only it never occurred to me to call it that, back when I hosted friends in my huge college apartment, in my sweet house that followed, and then... well, you know. There's the way I live now.

Of course I joined this community! But then what? I've already worked out my lodging arrangements for my west coast trip, and since my actual couch is still in a house in WV (yea, Mom, I know... I'll move it one day, really!) I can't very well host travelers either! Still, what a fascinating community!

But it occurred to me that since I haven't worked out the details for my "side trip" to Vancouver, from Seattle, if I should be able to garner enough references before that alleged future time, perhaps I could actually stay in the home of a seasoned Couch Surfing member. So I've asked a few friends to help me out. The jury's still out on whether I'll ever hear from those people again, or not.

For those who are still wondering what this is all about, here's an article I found that tells you far more than I could: How to Use CouchSurfing to See the World. It was written by Baker, a travel/finance/life-hack blogger at Man vs. Debt, who actually has first-hand knowledge of what this whole CouchSurfing business is like. Plus? He's traveling with his wife and kid. Go read it. Really.

Okay, some of you are still here. So I'll tell you this: CouchSurfing.org has established layers of security measures that helps members be as cautious or bold as they like. I recommend you read this Safety Features page, if you're still concerned for my well being. (Or if you're that friend who said to me the other night, "People are crazy. You sure you wanna' do this?" Yes sir, I actually do!)

Meanwhile, if you know me and would like to help out, but you just aren't interested in joining One More Thing (especially a "thing" that lets people stay in the homes of other people they never met before, while traveling,) you can still help. And I'd love it if you would! Just write me a reference, and email it to me! That's right - if you've slept on any of my couches or beds in the past, or you've hosted me in your home, or you've just known me for a long time and think I'm a nifty kind of gal... what would you want a perfect stranger to know about me, if they were contemplating hosting me in their home one day? Good. Write that down and email it to me. Please. I figure I can post these on a special place on this website, and refer interested CouchSurfing community members there. Maybe that couldn't hurt, as I get established in this fascinating little circle. Then maybe I won't have to stay in a hotel in Vancouver! (Though if I do, I'll still have a magnificent time, take tons of pictures, and tell you all about it. Promise - either way!)

And? If I do know you and, like me, you think this whole CouchSurfing idea is really pretty nifty, let me know when you join and maybe we can write references for each other!

PS: Thank you Sara for being my first CouchSurfing friend!!!!

Starting in Raleigh on Friday, I'll fly to Los Angeles where I'll spend some time with friends. (More on that later.) From there, I'm told we're going up to San Francisco, which excites me greatly since not only have I never been to LA, I've also never been to SF! Then back to LA.

From there, on September 9, I'll leave and fly to Seattle.

Last time I was in Seattle, it was for 2 weeks and aside from a day trip to a nearby park - was it Mount Olympus? Was it Mount Rainier? I'm embarrassed to say I don't even remember now, though I tend to think it was Olympus. So this time I'm planning to make a few trips to "nearby" cities. On the proposed agenda for this trip are both Vancouver AND Portland! Plus one of the aforementioned mountains, or another.

I'll fly back to Greensboro on October 11.

As you can imagine, when I'm not working, these days my main focus is trying to figure out exactly what I need to pack. Many things once considered vital or necessary for my everyday comfort are now being considered luxuries or extraneous. One of my Seattle friends told me she and her husband haven't checked luggage in years, preferring instead to pack everything in their carry on bags. I'm not feeling so confident that I'll be able to do such, so will pay the extra fees for checking a bag. But still, what will I need for six weeks? Particularly when not only am I traveling during a time when the season change is approaching, but also when I'm departing a cauldron of humidity and traveling to a region that boasts low, low humidity. That alone, my friends, is worth the price of admisison. Especially this summer!

Among the other activities filling my time are meeting with local clients who prefer to work face-to-face, seeing friends with whom I frequently go 6 weeks without an in-person visit, but who - faced with an actual itinerary - seem concerned that perhaps I might not return. Which leaves my calendar looking far more packed than I'm accustomed. Which is always better than being bored! And having no friends or clients!

Now I'll sign off and be productive for a while longer before I head over to hang with my sister's family. It's been far too long since I've seen them. I miss my nephew. And since being away from him is going to be one of my least favorite things about this trip - if not THE least favorite thing - you'll naturally understand why I'm looking forward to my afternoon.

Hope yours is filled with things that excite you, too!

In future posts, I'll explain more about who I'm seeing while away, how I plan to continue my work (yay technology and portable careers!) and a "Little" Photography Project I'm formulating for myself!

View of Seattle taken through a ferry window, returning from Bainbridge Island, March, 2006

In spite of the fact that I've lived a quasi-nomadic, pretty unconventional life for about 5 years now, and I once regularly listed "travel" as a hobby any time I was asked, the truth is, I don't really do much serious travel. Local and area trips, sure. Up and down the southern part of the east coast? Well, yea. From time to time, though not really that far. I mean, until a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't been on a plane in several years. Most of my Moving From Place To Place has been done in cars. In one particular car, in fact, until those days wrapped themselves up so tidily, that is.

This is not to negate my wandering explorations. My lifestyle is very satisfying to me and I'm grateful to have the experiences it offers me. I love being able to say "yes" when a friend calls on Tuesday to see if I'd like to drive with him to the beach in 3 days. When I headed off to live in near-isolation in a house in West Virginia last summer, a number of friends told me they admired my bravery. So I realize what we're talking about here is relative. Still, when I think of "Travel" with a capital "T" my personal definition of the word includes a willingness:

• to try new things as often as possible,
• to push myself further than might be completely comfortable,
• to steadily move myself out of my comfort zone, seeing things I've never seen before, meeting people who have experienced lives different from my own,
• to be conscious about my travel decisions, rather than passive, as has been my default for so long.

And although it's definitely not a requirement, I decided, too, that airplanes need to be involved in the kind of travel I'll be doing in the coming months.

So I'm sitting in my friend's living room, suddenly faced with the Not Quite Accurate label of myself as "one who likes to travel." Lots of excuses presented themselves - I'm busy, travel can be expensive, Fill In The Blank With Any Number Of Random Topics had been consuming my hours - but even before that day, the truth had started to show its unpleasant face. I paused, then said, "I'm a wus, aren't I?" She nodded, not smiling, and declared in her Direct Voice "You ARE a wus!"

And there it was.

Of course another truth, certainly entertwined with the Fear Truth, is that I just haven't made Real Travel a priority. It's largely off the radar, when I'm concerned with making a living and managing my relationships and the like. But probably at the core, the truth of my forgetting to focus on travel remains wrapped up in the other truth. Which is basically this: I'm fascinated and enthralled with the IDEA of world travel. In fact I've dreamed and fantasized about travel for as long as I can remember. And yet many details related to traveling alone scare me.

Okay then! Now that we've identified The Issue, we can start to work on it! And so that's what I started doing.

Only I didn't go home and book a flight that night, or anything impulsive like that. Oh no! I had to sit with the thoughts first. Ask a million questions. Consider which answers were honest and which ones needed revisiting. But still, when something presented itself as solidly as the "You are afraid travel, darlin. Now whatcha' gonna' do about it?" in the form of a conversation with a Real World Traveler, I had something to work with!

Of course very soon thereafter I drove to Atlanta and spent a few weeks in a friend's home before coming back via my folks' house in SC, where I spent 3 weeks helping my mom recover from heart surgery, and 3 weeks after that trip finished, I went to spend a week with my 90 year old Granddaddy and some other relatives in south Alabama. It occurred to me later that these were the perfect first steps to get me thinking about travel in a bigger way than before. In fact, it was while I was away from Greensboro that the first seeds of my next trip were planted.

It'd be a hoot to tell you that I'm headed off next week to work on an Australian ranch, or that I'm meeting up with some kayakers in Patagonia. Don't go getting all excited. The travel I'm about to embark on would barely raise the eyebrow of most Serious Travelers. But we're not talking about those people right now. This is my life. My journey. My adventures.

One of the answers that came to me during this current transition is that if I don't feel ready for Big Travel, I should just start by making some solid plans for Some Travel Of The Kind That Doesn't Scare Me. And then do it again. And again! Then? Well then, just like with most of life's challenges, I'll become more and more confident as a traveler. Which will naturally be followed by some Big Travel!

First Lessons & Experiences Since My Friend Confirmed She Thinks I'm A Wus

• Learned that Delta Airlines now charges $25 extra to check my luggage. Just one bag, too big to take on board with me. Who knew? (Like I said, it had been a while.)
• Experienced my first cancelled flight - after I'd arrived at the airport - while in another city. (Which of course worked out MOST spectacularly for me!)
• And, on the same trip, had my first opportunity to give up my seat, take a later flight, and be rewarded with free travel benefits. Woo hoo!
• Joined AAA Premier - mostly for the less-obvious benefits - just before my car drove its last hundred miles.

Looking forward to telling you about my plans. But this is long enough, and prolly it's better if I get back to this mountain of work that's funding this little adventure of mine.

216,133 of 'em, to be exact.

Alas, those years are gone. A couple of my girlfriends came by on Monday morning and we drove to Charlotte where the kind folks at the AAA Car Care center have kindly provided me with uninterrupted, complaint-free parking while I traipsed off for my week away, and then made arrangements to finally return and pick it up. Probably I could have managed this sooner. But it's since ocucrred to me that it's probably natural to need some time to mentally deal with such a change. So I took my time, and finally came to the realization that I had to tell my car goodbye. (This "realization" was reinforced by the highly entertaining suggestion that I could have my engine replaced with a rebuilt one. With a price tag of $5,200, I kindly passed on that offer.)

Then? Then the cold hard facts hit me, and I hooked up with the fine folks at Junk My Car dot com. Wanna' know what they paid me? Well, first, they sent out a nice guy named Darrell to tow my baby away, at no cost to me. And then? Then they deposited $115 into my PayPal account. Just like that.

It wasn't until we were discussing the logistics of pickup (including the tiny matter of Darrell needing to pick up my car at 6:30pm, long after I'd begun my planned meeting with a committe of website clients that evening back here in Greensboro,) that a tear squeezed its way out of my eye. Darrell explained that he wouldn't require me to have my title signed or notarized. Why? "I'm just going to have it crushed," this strange man on the phone said about the car I've driven for nearly half my life. Ouch, baby! You don't have to be so, so... harsh! But it's true that good things always eventually come to an end. And this good thing? I had it a long, long time. About 5 weeks short of 20 years, if you're a fan of specificity.

Now I've got all kinds of wide open spaces stretching out in front of me, filled with possibilities for the future. But not yet. As I've mentioned along the way in more than one recent post, I'm not buying a replacement yet. A week from Friday, I'm flying to LA where I'll spend a week or so, (more on that exciting turn of events soon,) then it's on to Seattle for a month. After that? Well, then we'll see about replacing my car.

While I'm away, feel free to keep your eyes peeled for a fabulous old truck... cheap. As I keep mentioning, that's my next planned vehicle purchase. But we'll worry about that in October, eh?

Bye little Toyota. RIP... at least, as much peace afforded you once they take the crusher to you...



He said: So you wouldn't rather buy a car? Like... a normal woman?

I said: Not at all. Why? You want to be with a normal woman?

He said: No, no! I was just asking! Nothing to get alarmed about.

I said: All right, then. Just so we're clear...

Still, I was on the 6:25 flight to Atlanta. From where my connecting flight to Greensboro, which was to have arrived home at 11:10 pm when I booked it was, I'd just learned, now to be departing at 11:50. Yay. Arriving home at 1:12am was not high on my list of favorite parts of the day, but when I landed and saw the "departing at 1:15am" notice, I reminded myself to hold off on the complaining in future - seems it can get worse.

But "worse" is a relative term. Especially when your very good friend lives in Atlanta and is generally up for some spontaneous fun. Calling her to see if I should change my unpredictable flight to another one in the morning, I said, "Hypothetical question for ya. Let's say you're the nomad and I'm the one who lives in Atlanta. If you suddenly found yourself hanging out in the airport for 4 hours..." She interrupted me with an incredulous, "Are you in Atlanta???!!!" So we talked for 2 minutes, then I headed over to the service phone and called a Delta representative to switch my flight. At which time I heard, "Well your flight has been cancelled!" Good thing I'm already at the front of the line booking a seat for tomorrow, then, eh?

After the perfect amount of catching up and general good Girl Gabbing Time and a better night's sleep than I prolly would have had if I'd used the hotel room voucher Delta's clever little machine had spit out for me when I went to print my updated Tuesday itinerary, I returned to the airport through all that Atlanta morning traffic and, set to be on the 10:38am flight to Greensboro, learned that my flight had been overbooked. Anybody interested in waiting around for the 12:37ish flight would be rewarded with $300 Delta Dollars. Hm. With the ever-increasing likelihood that I'll be purchasing a vehicle soon, along with the serious jonesing to spend September in Seattle, that sounded like a reasonable offer to me. Why yes! I do believe I'd love to hang around and enjoy your hospitality a while longer! Appreciate your asking!

Not only are those nifty Itinerary Spitting Machines new since the last time I flew anywhere (I was surprised to realize it must have been 3 or 4 years before this last round of flights started up,) they've also got these handy "recharging stations" for your laptops and smartphones. Kind of like what you'd get if you combined a library carrel with a tall bar table with walls for segmenting the surface into 4 separate units, and put it down in the middle of a bunch of seats for random strangers to mingle with ease. From which you could easily overhear, if you were so inclined, the animated banter of a pack of middle aged men who clearly travel a lot and are, you subsequently learn, more than a little impressed by your typing speed and the fact that You Don't Even Look At The Keys your hands are flying over!

An hour later, looking around for a seat near my hopefully departing gate, I heard my name being called. Not by a formal voice on a loud speaker, but by a familiar, warm voice I wasn't expecting to hear. Sure enough, a couple of friends now living in Boulder were flying standby, trying to get back to the Greensboro area, and were hopeful of being on that very same flight.

And so they were. But only after we had some welcome friendly banter of our own.

From the time I texted my friend who'd offered to pick me up, telling him we were on the ground, and the minute he dropped me at my door,  I don't think a half hour even passed. Things got real efficient there at the end.

Then twenty four hours hadn't passed before I was online checking flight times and dates for my next trip. I don't know. Unlike the stories of some people I know, travel unpredictability seems not to turn me off to more, but, instead, make me crave another trip soon. But since my next trip's plans have me juggling more airports - and individual schedules - to make September go off without a hitch, I'll hold off on sharing those details for a while. Suffice it to say that if even half of the details I'm trying to work into the overall plan work out, I'll have way more interesting stories to share. And this time, great pictures too.

For now, I'll stay put, design some websites, meet some clients, and catch up with my local friends and family. And try to figure out if I can manage to actually travel light this time. The fact that no iron skillets are likely to be involved, either coming OR going, will be a good start!

My clients are lovely and glorious. And some of the most patient people I've ever encountered. So they wait for work that they'd expected to be completed before now. And if they weren't so agreeable? I'd still be right where I am, confident that my obligations will nonetheless work themselves out when I've returned to my normal life more typical rhythms.

As I was wrapping up my stay with my parents, last week, following Mom's triple bypass surgery, and the idea to fly to Pensacola, so that a then-undetermined relative could meet me there and drive the hour and half to be with my Granddaddy hit me, I knew I should buy a ticket. When fully-formed ideas arrive as forcefully as that one did and the timing could not be worse? Well, you know that's exactly when you need to pay attention to them.

This is the first time I've spent with this part of my family since we lost my cousin. His non-presence is everywhere, and the permanent reality that he is not is intertwined with the complex details related to the Finally Sinking In acceptance that as he approaches 91, my Granddaddy isn't going to wake up one morning next week and suddenly be the vital, independant man we'd grown so accustomed to all these years. The man he would prefer to be, if it's all the same to you.

As a granddaughter, I'm not directly involved in the long-term, day-to-day details of the Evolving New Plan. Yet my presence - and perspective - seem not only welcomed, but desired, here. And so I put aside thoughts of Squarespace and Photoshop and PayPal and Twitter. Days into this visit, I even postpone questions over whether I will or will not have a running 20 year old Toyota when I return, whether or not I will be buying a magnificent, old truck to "replace" my faithful travel companion, whether or not I will spend September in Seattle. I also haven't yet paid the registration fee for an upcoming conference I want to attend after the possible trip to Seattle and don't know if it's just irony or something bigger at play, aware as I am that the main day of the conference will be held on Granddaddy's next birthday.

Instead of leaving town today as planned, I've rescheduled my return trip to Greensboro for Monday evening. Granddaddy spent last night in the hospital, my Dad was there with him, after a mostly-impromptu drive down here instead of in the other direction as planned, and it sounds like he'll spend the night there again tonight. The details of why are rather mundane and ordinary, still layered with unpredictability and question marks. Monday may not be a better day to leave, either, but it's the most solid decision I could make last night before heading up to my room. The one at the end of the hall that slept adult pairs when I was a child, only children during summers when our parents weren't around.

This is home and this is far from home and today it's exactly where I want to be.