Coke plus Benedict plus hugs = all better

Today was a day full of love, starting from about ten AM. Prior to that it was full of a migraine and a hot "flash" that was more like an extended prairie fire. Neither one led to successful sleep, so you can imagine the cheerful and friendly mood I was in when I eventually gave up trying to rest and faced the world as represented by my husband. Isn't he lucky to be married to me, with the migraines and the bitching? I'm certain he agrees. 

His delightful self found me a diner to eat at where I could have eggs Benedict and a gallon of coke while I marinated in sorrow and Imitrex. I don't recommend either with breakfast, but eventually the synergy kicked in and I began to resemble a human being again. And then we went to see my family. 

Then, mass love and hugs and kisses and a jigsaw puzzle, and I accidentally got the pug in trouble by letting her lick me. Sorry, Nev. Didn't know it was verboten. I needed me some puppy time though. 

The day absolutely flew by. I got to talk to everybody except my brother and my oldest nephew, as usual. Some day we will have a conversation. Perhaps 2020 after everything settles down a bit?  Well, maybe 2025. I wouldn't want to rush anything. It's just that I got to talk to my brother once in 2005 and it was really nice. He turns out to be extremely articulate and intelligent. (Who knew?) and my nephew seems to be taking after him so chances are good he can do this talking thing also. Possibly after adolescence. 

I hated to leave but we all have to sleep sometime, I sincerely hope. After some Benadryl, perhaps. And aided by one of my aunt's amazing caramels, which I might have to share with my husband. Possibly there was something in our vows about it. I could have said anything, really, the whole day was a blur. 

In the morning, more family. This time I hope to marinate in less Imitrex and more baby smiles. 

In which I actually touch a family member

This week is all about family for me. We keep in touch (well, JD keeps in touch, mostly) but we don't actually see each other much. Around the holidays we try to make an effort to have actual face time with family members. This is especially important to me because the nieces and nephews will be kids for a limited time, and then they'll be off on their own going to college, having adventures, and raising their own families. Though I hope they'll still see their great aunt me every so often. 

So today we saw JD's mom, brother, sister in law, and the newest nephew. I had missed out on seeing David before, what with thruhiking and concomitant Lyme disease. I may have gotten the better end of the deal because now he's old enough to be fun. And large enough to drive. Man those kids grow up quick. 

Later this week we'll get to see my folks, brother, sister in law, and their daughter and two sons. This might be one of my last Christmases seeing Sandy, who is getting awfully close to leaving the nest. Maybe I'll luck out and she'll be a homebody. ;) but I can't count on that so I have to make the most of the time I get before she's a big important adult with no time for humoring aunts. Then it'll be Ian's turn, all too soon. And he already has no time for humoring aunts. He's too busy developing new daredevil stunts to show the world. So I'd say there's a good chance I can just watch him on tv. I'll point and say "Yup. That's my nephew. He sure didn't get those skills from me. "

Get me out of here!

I'm at a technical conference today. I'm surrounded by strangers, mostly men. There are a few women at most of the booths, trying to catch my eye so they can make a sale. Unfortunately I have no budget. I'm here for information only. 

I am interested in the talks or I wouldn't have come, but being in this environment is making a large, loud part of my brain scream "Do not want!". Especially after reading on facebook that a hiker friend only has 18 weeks to go until his thruhike starts. I have Springer Fever and I have it bad. 

It is just a hair from unbearable that I won't be thruhiking again. I have a husband, pets, a home,  and a job. Those things, in that order, keep me home. Out of love, mind you. But nevertheless home. 

Maybe I need therapy?  At the moment I want to leave more than I want my next meal. 

Home, where the buffalo never, ever roamed

I've never really wanted to live anywhere but here.  I can't relate to people who pine for the mountains or the seashore.  I like it here.  I like the rolling hills and the grass and the trees.  When I go somewhere else it feels alien.  Hiking has helped me be comfortable in more environments, but no place feels like home to me but here.

I've spent short periods of time living in Minnesota and New York.  I've taken long vacations in Florida, Texas, Arizona, California, Maine, and Colorado.  They were nice enough.  But they weren't home.

I've been interviewing places to see if they'd be good retirement homes.  Some place a little less busy, with warmer winters maybe.  Maybe Virginia, Tennessee, or the Carolinas.  Much further than that and I don't know if I'd ever get used to the vegetation.  Even if I did, everything else is different.  Even the major chains change as you move farther away.  In our consumer nation, not being able to buy the brands you're used to is its own source of alienation.

Despite my love of this place, I'm also ashamed of it.  I'm ashamed of racism (both the regular and inverse kind), the lack of grand geological features, the lack of distinguishing characteristics.  One time a man in Texas asked me where I was from, and when I told him Maryland he thought it was a small town in northeastern Texas.  Maryland does not stick in people's minds.

I wish my home state would be kinder to pedestrians and bicyclists.  I wish I had more restaurants to brag on.  I wish our schools were better.  I wish there were more trails and fewer strip malls with empty storefronts.  I know I'm lucky to live on a street where I know my neighbors well enough to use their shower or their guest room if something goes wrong at my house, but I also know that's uncommon here.

But still, Maryland, I kind of love you.  You're cute, with your bifurcation and your blue crabs.  From your watermen to your farmers to your hillbillies way up in the northwest, you have diversity.  Your long history of horse racing means I can buy a new horse trailer a mile from my house if I want to.  You have four distinct seasons.  You might not have a bounty of ethnic businesses, but I can get Ethiopian, Malaysian, or Korean food if I know where to look.

Stay green, Maryland.  Keep those rolling hills.  Keep those generations of watermen safe, and keep those crabs safe too.  You know I can't resist you.