Home again.

I have often wondered whether vacations are even worth it, what with the coming home to real life and your regular ordinary squalor. Not to mention the hellish (hellesque?) heat. But this time, it's been fine, good to come home. Why, I wonder?

Is it that, on the way home, we stayed in Winnemucca, site of an infamously bad dinner in days of yore? Is it because we managed to find a not-bad dinner this time? Is it that we listened to more good music? that we avoided life-threatening wildfires? that we had a long enough trip that we really were all smoothed out by the time we left for home?

I don't know, but here are the last of the vacation and traveling home photos. May I just say in conclusion that running son and college daughter did a bang-up job taking care of things at home, including trips to the dog park and so on. Seeing them, and the fact that they seemed kind of glad to see us, made coming home even sweeter.


Historian and poppies.














Historian and Pacific.
















Mendocino cemetery with Presbyterian spire.













Winnemucca balloons and refuse bin.














Liberal slots.














Salt flats sky.

















Wildfire (Tooele County).