twelve days, eight states, seven donkeys: a road trip

We’re home from the longest road trip I’ve ever taken. We drove my little gray Honda Civic from Iowa to Arizona and back again. On the way we saw a sunset in Texas and flickering nighttime monsoon clouds in New Mexico. In Arizona we celebrated a milestone and spent a few days on a remote ranch where my phone didn’t work, where internet was nonexistent. Heading towards home we caught up with old friends, and I bought a hat.

It was a great trip. There’s nothing like driving 3700 miles to make you realize what a vast and varied country we live in.

And after all that, after the driving and the landscape and the speculative conversations about buying a ranch somewhere in the high plains, after you’ve slept in seven different beds in less than two weeks, after New Mexico has won the donkey-density contest, after the landscape is familiar again and you no longer need Droidette’s* robotic instructions to get you where you’re going, after you’re homethere’s nothing like easing back into your own life and realizing it fits just right.

*our new nickname for the voice that speaks from the navigation app on my phone

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