Boston

Yes, I've been ignoring you.

Because I was out of town. I'd like to tell you about my week, but first we need to get some business out of the way. My friend Courtney is helping her sister's family because of the tragic accident that happened to them. You probably know Courtney's blog, but if you haven't been there lately, trot on over and see what happened and what you can do to help.

And now, for a travelogue . . .

Nope. Not going to do it. Travelogues are pretty boring to read, don't you think? I'm not a fan of them, nor of the family-report types of blogs either. (Not to imply that I don't adore YOURS, though.) And, admit it, the only reason you still read mine is that I rarely report on my kids or my trips (well, excepting Panama, I admit). So I won't give you a travelogue.

But I will say that I never realized how barren and dry this place was until I saw the northeast. Gorgeous, lush, woodsy suburbs with colonial houses tucked into them like cabins. Why would people go camping when their back yards look like the woodsy Utah canyons? I saw some beautiful, beautiful land. And then we flew west and I watched the brown get closer and closer and then we landed in it and now I'm home. Sigh.

But I always, always love coming home. And the World's Best Husband had the house SPOTLESS for me. And it was so nice to see and touch and smell all my boys again. I've got a great life. Just need to get over the jet lag now.

Anyone want squash? The garden took over the back yard while I was gone. It's the ongoing curse of the over-fertile garden plot and the vegetable-reluctant family.