lida rose

I’m home again, rose.

I guess I should tell you I’ve been back in Iowa for two days. And that before that I was in California. Awful sorry for not mentioning it! This trip to California, as all trips to California, was wonderful. Movies, my kind of Mexican food (that would be fresh limes and avocados), the aquarium, light jackets and flats, salty ocean air and this kind of view:

Oh yes, it was hard to come back to our little house on the tundra. One thing that made it easier: a free bump-up to first class, thanks to Boyfriend’s miles and points and other American Airline secret handshakes still barred to new clubhouse-member me. We left Santa Ana at 7:30 am and had a mid-flight second breakfast — which, did you know that you place your order, and they bring it out individually, not on a cart? I did not. I am too pedestrian to live!

(Please note the real glassware.) And before we landed in Dallas, I had a glass of champagne. Because I COULD. It was great. Then one more flight north and we were back home. I couldn’t help but notice all the differences between homecoming this year and last: temperatures in the positive twenties, hardly any snow on the ground, a car that starts. When you’re dropping fifty degrees, it’s the little things that count!


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