It's a wonderful thing to wake up in your bed, and know that you will be traveling that day. It's even more special, as it was this morning, to wake up somewhere else, and know that, that day, you are heading home.
It was a little overcast in Santa Cruz, as we packed up and headed to the airport in San Jose. Flying logistics were smooth - there was no major hassle with my surgical boot, although they did carefully swipe it, looking for tell-tale signs of high explosives.
We landed in Portland and it was sunny and cool. By the time we were heading west on I-84, the skies were darkening, and by the time we hit the Terwilliger Curves, the temperature had dropped 15 degrees and it was sleeting. There was a dusting of snow on the ground in our neighborhood, with a few flurries coming down.
The house, in the care of two young men for six days, was a mess, and we've just spent three hours cleaning. I guess that was to be expected.
It is now chow time for animals, and they are letting us know it. Nice to be home.
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