I feel like I have been traveling for months, and it has only been one week.  This is not a complaint.  I am so where I want to be right now.  Still, I have seen so much every day.  From museums to historic sites to churches to city life to parks to street scenes…I feel like I am ready to go home and I have only been in two cities, one of which I will go back to for another week of adventures and one of which I am still to be in for another four days, gladly (there is so much more to engage with).  And I have 31 more cities to see J

And I am really starting to miss home.  Yes, I consider Boise, Idaho my home, the place where my wanderlust-ful heart has decided to settle, at least for now.  My tribe is there, my sister is there, my man is there, my teaching is there, my porch is there.   It’s fall in Boise, the time of year when the weather gets chilly at night, chilly enough for a sweater or sweatshirt, chilly enough to remind me of flirting on college soccer fields and first kisses in high school in Denver.  I love this time of year. 

In a week that feels like a month, I momentarily feel that I want to go back right now.  What was I thinking when I planned for two and a half months away from Phil and Aussie and Kari and Ellie and…my life?!  So I take a succession of deep breaths, listen to the imams call prayer from minarets around the city, and I think of the Byzantine mosaics I will see tomorrow and the chess set I will look for in the Grand Bazaar.  This is my life, and it is good.