Later, Baby

And so, after six weeks in PDX, I’ve come back to Utah for a spell. And I gotta say: This place? Is achingly beautiful. If you know me at all, you get my super sappy side, – incongruient with the two-faced trucker piece of me, but, hey, that’s just how we Geminis roll. So today? Yeah, I dumped ’em, springing big, fat crocodile tears as I gushed aloud about the serene beauty passing outside my windows. And I’m pretty sure my grinchy heart grew a couple of sizes. 

Or could just be the heat.

Truth is, I dig me a happy cry, especially when my ticker is aching IRL, although in a very first-world problem kind of way. Yesterday, I bid a fond adios to my dear Wilma, my crony, my confidant, my Cooper. And she of the alliterative trio that is my gang of weary travelers. I didn’t expect to cry – which is a really polite way of admitting that I did without going into the ugly, snotty details. But saying goodbye to one of my dearest was more difficult than I had guessed it might be. 

And, as the saying goes, “Onto the next.” Wilma Too is all picked out and ready to go, just as soon as Mama here settles in and finds me some work. And if y’all give me a few months to stack some cash? The salt-n-pepper train will (quasi-irrisponsibly) ride again, looking for some solo silver adventures. And in the meantime, I’ll be all gooey and Kate-like about the amazing beauty all around me. 

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