Last night we arrived home jet-lagged and almost giddy. Sleep deprivation and the desire to mark your territory can have that effect on the most mild mannered of woman. Not that I could be mistaken for someone mild mannered. We spent a few days driving across California and exploring Yosemite National Park. (I’ll link to photos later. Tired. Thanx). I seem to be adjusting well to traveling without a laptop, and out of cell phone range. I didn’t suffer from the shakes once. But I did get nervous when I discovered my book wasn’t as interesting as I had hoped.

Major travels start and end much the same way, a high level of anxiety, a surplus of stress, and a driving force to accomplish tasks in the shortest amount of time possible. The Hunter and Gatherer don’t understand why the activity, but they are intuitive enough to be suspicious, and therefore a little clingy. They do their part to an envelope my entire suitcased (like they way I make up words when I need them?) wardrobe in wispy contrasting fur, so that I might be returned safely to them, should I lose my way home. A non-digestible trail of bread crumbs, if you will.

After returning and crossing the threshold, I regressed into my obsessive compulsive organizing self, trapped in a circle of soiled laundry, tall grass, and empty cupboards. All of which prevent me from sorting photos. I feel guilty about having a good time. When I enjoy myself, the house falls in disarray, the grass tickles my kneecaps, and we spend three days eating oatmeal and quesadillas because I detest grocery shopping.

I won’t bore you with the trip details, but as advocate for outdoor public spaces, Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Muir Woods all earn their stripes as National Parks.

*Feel free interpret with or without the sarcasm as it serves your purpose.