It feels great to be home. Great to fly through the magnificent pink sky past half a dozen white capped mountains, the Columbia Gorge and a vast spread of green. Great to fall back into the familiar grid of my life. Breakfast, gym, writing, coffee, massage. Oh massage . . .that.

I have just one client today, but that means clipping my writer nails. That makes me sad. I like the extra click they make on the keyboard. I like the ridge they make for my thumb, rubbing back and forth looking for the right word. Oh well. The words are there regardless. They're there somewhere, waiting.