Back home

Shawn and I just returned from our 25th Anniversary Celebration Trip.

Yes, we have been married for 25 years.  Sometimes it seems longer.  Sometimes it seems like the blink of an eye.  Sometimes I feel a little bit like throwing up when I realize how old I've gotten.

Shawn took my camera-computer cable while we were on the trip, and he hasn't returned it.  If I would post from my netbook, I could access all the photos, but somehow, against all odds, I have become accustomed to my Mac.  It feels good to be back home at my familiar computer.  So today, as I shake off the jet lag and wash the dirty clothes, I will just do a short post.  Perhaps tomorrow I will write more.

I haven't even mentioned where we went.  This is why I am not a journalist.

We went to Zion National Park in Springdale, Utah.  This involved flying in and out of Las Vegas which is probably my least favorite city in the world.  I kept thinking, "It's 110 degrees, the land is completely parched, and I am surrounded by brazen sin everywhere.  Where am I?  I thought it was hell, but they tell me it's only Las Vegas."  Those exact words ran through my head over and over as I watched people who thought they were having a grand time make one foolish, destructive decision after another, and I would think,  "In hell, the sin will lose its celebratory attributes."

Zion is an entirely different place.  For one thing, it is 5-10 degrees cooler (HA!).  For another thing, the Virgin River runs through the canyon, and alongside it, green plants actually grow: cottonwood trees, bushes, even little blooming flowers.  The towering sandstone mountains soak up whatever rain and snow happens to precipitate throughout the year, and there are places where the rocks "weep"--misty droplets fall from overcroppings of stone, creating little oases of lush growth.  We saw ferns and tiny mountain columbine in one such area.

Can I just ask... why is it that the negative aspects of a trip are so much more interesting than the positive ones?  I really want to write about the negatives, not because I am complaining, but because they are just more interesting to me.  I mean, how many people have gazed out over the Grand Canyon and been awestruck by its beauty?  I'd guess millions, possibly billions.  On the other hand, how many people have puked their spinach, mushroom and cheese omelet into an airsick bag in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon?  Actually probably quite a few, but certainly not so many who would admit it.  If they had admitted it, I might have read about it in the reviews, and then it might not have happened to me.

It was a busy trip.  I didn't have much time to read, rest, reflect or write.  Over the next few days, I'm going to try to record as much as I can remember, the good and the bad.  There was much more good than bad, but the bad parts are far more interesting...