In which I need some sequiny red shoes

We've moved a lot.

You know?

We spent the first year of our married life in Michigan. Then another year in Ohio. Then Brazil - wherein we moved four times.

So we've done the pack-unpack-make friends-leave friends - pack-unpack-make friends-leave friends thing. It's really no fun at all. 

And while we always made spectacular friends wherever we were - 

none of the places ever felt like h o m e.

When we went on long trips - like, long, ten-hour-plane-trip-trips - when we finally pulled up in the driveway ... nothin'. 

Home was wherever My Man and the kids were. The house itself ... they were always just houses. We came "house" - never home.

But now? I think I've finally found it. 

H

O

M

E

Have I told you how much I love Arizona?

I love Arizona.

I actually love the blistering hot summers. I love letting my children run naked all day in the sprinklers. I love swimming practically every day in the neighborhood pool - and the fact that my hair is dry before we get home. I love eating so many Otter Pops our lips never return to normal color. I love the sweltering evenings - the heavy air hanging - the crickets chirp chirping under an immense desert night sky.

I love the beauty of this place. It's a different kind of aesthetic than the leafy green wonder that is Michigan - where I grew up. They both set my heart a-glow. But Arizona - it's different. The strong-lined mountains cutting into the sky - a sky that is always, always blue. And the intense color of summer flowers in full bloom - the deepest of pinks and purples and oranges and reds send me into raptures.

I love the people. People are nice here. They give you directions and help you with groceries and stop to talk to you on the street. Arizonians are colorful - cheerful - they're into health food and citrus and farmer's markets and can be found everywhere running, biking, walking, swimming, moving. Arizonians are outside.

I love that there are so many people of my faith here. I love that on my street of thirteen houses, ten of them are Mormon. And yet - I'm glad we're not overrunning the city. (Though we are overrunning my subdivision.) I love that 85% of people you meet are not members. I love the diversity - the opportunities to meet different kinds of people - the chance to be an example and teach.

I love the community. I love that I can find any class or sport imaginable - available during your choice of times. I love that there are always at least four parks within walking distance, wherever you are - and usually a few pools, too. I love that there are fun, funky shopping areas where we can stroll and absorb the eclecticity of humans. I love that the parking spaces are van-wide, the grocery stores have free child care, and every fast-food restaurant has a playplace.

I love the endless museums within 30 minutes of my house. I love the art - the culture - the theater - the symphony. I love that there is so much to do here.

And I love the winters. I love that the winters here are like autumn everywhere else. I love that I get months of colorful, crunchy leaves - and still get to keep my blueblue sky and lush green grass.

I. Love. Arizona.

Welcome home.

There is something profoundly wrong with this picture

We spent a couple weeks in Utah. 

We're back now. 

Sun, I have missed thee.

Four day weekend in shorthand

Saddle in the trunk

and boxes for my brother

Drive 12 hours

Rest stops

Arrive at Grandma's house

Grandma gets awesomeamazingsuperincredibleAWARD

Four-wheel (it's a verb)

Start a brass band

Hang out with husband

Play with camera

Drive home

Rest stops

And most of all -

S.M.I.L.E.S

Cuz my mom told me to

This is what's been going on in That Girl-ville lately.

THING FIRST: We've been graduating.

From preschool:

And kindergarten:


I cried both times.

THING SECOND: We've been Newport Beach-ing.

I have a burn line around the book that I kept on my lap.

THING THIRD: We've been whale watching.

Although "dolphin watching" is the correct term, since the whales didn't want to play.

I was obviously a little geeked. I'm pretty sure dolphin watching was on my bucket list.

I can now die.

Everyone else had fun too. Giggling was a common theme of the morning. Also eating. Because boats make you hungry.




I learned that it was very hard to take a picture of a dolphin, even when they are jumping right next to the boat and there are hundreds of them. I am lame.

I think "photography class" is on my bucket list too. I guess I can't die yet.


I also learned that you can't take a good picture when the wind is blowing. That's probably part of that class.

THING FOURTH: We've been friend-visiting.

Which involved being stuck in LA Memorial Day traffic for hours, because some tanker had the gall to flip over and blow up the road. Seriously. The nerve.

(No one was hurt. Otherwise I wouldn't joke.)

(Okay, maybe I would.)

THING FINALLY: We've been summer-ing. School's out already and it be time to

P
L
A
Y

Which we've been doing. Lots.

WE LOVE SUMMER!
Don't you?

in which i bleed stars and stripes

i voted today

it feels good

it feels like i matter


it feels like i belong

it feels community-ish


it feels AMERICAN


because AMERICA is all about being good - feeling like you matter - belonging- community-ism - and most of all,

being opinionated


(really, it's like one big blog)

**Visit my pal Annie for endless wit and cleverness - even on the subject of voting**

There is a video playing continuously

when you're waiting in the eternities that is Customs and Immigration in the Houston International Airport.

You are tired. You just sat ramrod straight for tenandahalf hours - besides the occasional rockingchildbacktosleepinabsolutelynospace, of course. Your tear ducts are so swollen that you feel they may never recover. Your throat hurts from sobbing in short bursts for three days. Your arms ache from hundreds of bone-crushing hugs, trying to pour your whole soul into an embrace - trying to express through the curve of your neck what words can never say.

My last image of Brazil was of a dozen of my dearest friends, each clasping her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the emotion that we have avoided for months. Agonized eyes. Not knowing when we'll see one another again. There were no goodbyes - opening the mouth would have been highly dangerous.

As we drove away, doubled over the steering wheel and praying that the Lord would help me drive, I wondered why were we leaving again? This phrase repeated itself all through the long night, no room to pace, asking myself why on earth we would voluntarily leave our Brazilian paradise.

And then, standing in line trying to keep Ouro Branco from undoing all the elastic line dividers, I remembered.

The video.

It is a video of Americans in bright orange and pink saris with red dots on their foreheads. It is a video of Americans with black mustaches playing guitars and wearing sombreros. It is a video of American teenagers shooting hoops in a courtyard sandwiched between high buildings with reflective windows. It is a video of Americans playing chess in a park, climbing mountains, performing ballet, going to school and eating dinner on the back porch.

And they all say the same thing: Welcome. Welcome to the United States.

This is why we left.

I'm home. Not that that means I have a house - we've been in six states since we moved, living out of suitcases and laughing when people ask where we're from.

I'll tell you where I'm from - I'm from AMERICA.

(I finally have steady access to a computer. and I'll tell you all about our adventures. I've missed you. Thank you for missing me. I read every email with delight and wonder at such good friends. You? Rock.)