minnesota

I'm a bit more careful about broadcasting my location these days, but now that I'm — uh, back in Alabama? — I'll say that I had a good time in Minnesota. I should post some pictures, shouldn't I? First up, though, a gentle bit of listening pleasure for your Friday. Guster still sounds like Guster, but the images in this video are the real winner.

Vacationing in Minneapolis!

• 12:33 PM CT: For those of you who missed it, there was a dramatic reading of "Green Eggs and Ham" just now. Also, feeding cheese to toddlers.
• 12:34 PM CT: End result of this prep work: we’re going to the beach!
• 4:23 PM CT: Finishing up at the beach; @jhugart entertains a very tired two girls while we wait for Holly.
• 4:24 PM CT: Also, I have seen @crazybutable in shorts. Craziness!
• 10:33 PM CT: Back from dinner. Mostly packed. Early-ish flight tomorrow; the airlines are starting to sing a siren song of home.
• 11:35 PM CT: Around me, the house sleeps. I have been away for 13 days. Tomorrow I go home. I can’t convey the comfort inherent in that statement.

I’m trying out this vacation thing in Minneapolis, Minnesota:

I’m resting a couple of days in Seattle before meandering on to Minneapolis. Here’s what I’ve been up to:

• 10:45 PM PT: @jmcclure Miss you too, jeffie dear. Scritch Fang for me and tell them I’ll be home Sunday and will be ready to administer Epic Pettings.
• 12:34 AM PT: On plane to Minneapolis. The chatty six-year-old across the aisle may not survive the trip. We’ll see.
• 5:55 AM CT: Good morning, Minneapolis. Yes, my hair always sticks up like this in the morning, thanks for asking…
• 6:02 AM CT: http://ping.fm/p/q6I41 - The scrum to get off the plane and get coffee after a red-eye. Seat 33? You’re gonna wait a while.
• 3:56 PM CT: After a long, luscious nap, I am finally awake in the Hugart household. *yawn* *stretch* Stupid red-eye flights.

It had to happen eventually, but it took a bottle of mead and a late night and finally signing off of work to realize it.  I am going. I am really going. I have this sleep, the one that’s coming for me fast even as I type this entry, and one abbreviated one more, and that is it. A little over twenty-four hours and I am gone.

I am lying on the guest bed next to a surprisingly small pile of items that must go with me. Is this all I need of life for two weeks?  Really?

I’ve turned off all the lights except the lava lamp, whose glow is strangely soothing, and put away my books.  (Wizards of Earthsea is for the plane, so quit dipping into it already, Amy.) I need to wind down, and sleep, and yet suddenly it is all too real and all too soon and all too horribly far away.

Tickets are booked to Paris; tickets are booked to San Francisco.

We will be six in San Francisco, with tagalong extras depending on the day and the inclination of our local friends.  We have nebulous plans:  look for us in the cheap seats at the Giants-Astros game on July 4.  I’ll be the one in the bleachers with the beer; that’s all you need to find me in the crowd, right?  We’ll do a night tour of Alcatraz and I’ll relearn the San Francisco bus system and pictures, pictures, pictures!

A week in San Francisco.  We’ll celebrate Suzan’s birthday and tag along behind Asai in Chinatown.  Asai learned last night there’s a temple there; amidst the touristy time and stomping all over the city, we’ll probably take a few minutes for prayers.