My week spent in Boston and the ADK after Patagonia could not be any greater. Seriously. It finally snowed, which I have been waiting for since, what, last April?
As most of you know already, I LOVE the Hoarhouse and, as Rizzo says, K Hoar's house in the ADK pretty much restores my faith in life.
In other news, I was walking Hobbes (my adorable black lab) tonight, and it started lightening/raining, and ahhhhh I just had one of those moments where everything just feels likes it's falling into place. The last time I had a moment like this I was listening to "Home" and running into a small village on the outskirts of Gulu, Uganda. There was this HUGE downpour and all of these cute kids were laughing at me, the silly mzungu in soaked running shorts. Didn't she know it was rainy season, and to expect it every afternoon? But in that moment, I just felt like everything I had ever wanted was happening. I mean I had thought about going to Africa since I was little (to see elephants, though, not to study genocide), and there I was, caught in the rain, in Uganda, surrounded by people I had only read about in books, halfway across the world. And all of those moments of homesickness and self-doubt no longer seemed to matter--or at least, they seemed worth it.
I'm still not sure I understand the full extent to which I changed during those four months, but I am sure that in that moment I felt the change. And walking along Murfreesboro's suburban roads, I felt the same thing.