Oddly, it wasn't as horrible as I expected. I think I half-expected the potential housekeeper to come in, blanch at the horror, and say in hushed tones, We can make it right ... for a price!

It wasn't anything like that, really. We talked about the square footage of the house, and we talked about how frequently I needed help, and some of the crazier chores I needed help with, and what day of the week was best.

Your last night away from home puts you in an unfamiliar place, across the table from a face you haven't seen in six years and forty pounds. He is older and bearded, and the baskets of wings vary from sweet to hot, and the pomegranate margarita is exactly the kind of sweet, fluffy drink you want at the end of the trip when beer tastes too much like effort.

Denver comes with a blast of dry air and a welcome-back nosebleed. You call vaguely-new netfriends and get an offer of electrons and wi-fi from his place of business. You pick up a rental car that cost a fourth of your Detroit rental and head through industrial Denver for a temporary place to roost.

Next to last city. Since a week ago today I have been in:

• Huntsville, Alabama
• Atlanta, Georgia
• Detroit, Michigan
• Minneapolis, Minnesota (technically Eden Prairie and St. Paul but who's counting?)
• Denver, Colorado
• Fort Collins, Colorado

I remain here until Saturday afternoon, when we'll switch back to Denver one last time. I fly home Sunday.

Oh, my dear little librarian. You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays. I don't know about you, but I'd like to make today worth remembering.
- from The Music Man (thanks, Katie!)

Or ...

The cheese dances in the park after the seance.
(Thanks, Rachel. We'll come back to this one in a few months.)

At lunchtime, the raindrops were starting to find each other and think about congregating on windshields, and I thought about Chris, out west, half a world and a blizzard away.