Homeward Bound

I just finished packing for the trip home. I've never understood how John can sleep while I pack, but I'm glad he can. That means I could stop and watch the Laker's game before finishing. (Great game. Chick Hearn wouldn't have put it "in the fridge" until the last 30 seconds of O.T.)

It's very strange, I suppose, how much easier it is to pack when you're heading home than when you're leaving home. I guess the main difference is that you just get to pack everything rather than figuring out what you need to take and what you don't. The other aspect, of course, is that going home is always such a sweet feeling, no matter how exciting the original destination is. At least it is for us now. I never felt that way when we lived in the suburbs, but life in the foothills is perfect for us.

We love being on the road. Other people race past us, but we don't rush. We love the cruise control. It makes following the speed limits so easy. If that makes us boring, it also helps keep us safe.

We'll leave early tomorrow morning, probably around daybreak, and will make it somewhere across Utah. We don't really set a limit. We drive as long as we're enjoying it. Occasionally we make it to Colorado, but that's stretching it. We'll arrive home on Saturday sometime, and I'll get on the blog to announce our safe arrival.

Not to be morbid, but if something happens on the road, Ruth gets my best guitar and Schmath gets my banjo. Our three sons can have whatever else they want. Happy Trails to us.