We arrived home from Texas yesterday, missing my newly graduated airman brother (now gone to tech school) and dragging home suitcases fatter than when we left last week. Air Force t-shirts and teddy bears for the little siblings. Postcards of the Alamo for remembrance and candy for the kids. Lots of photos on the cameras and memories to go with them.

And there’s the two other things that I brought home: cowboy boots and…a head cold. And it isn’t even a Texan head cold. It traveled all the way from New England to Texas with my brother’s good friend who had gotten it from his housemate back here at home. Joe was good enough to share it with me, much to my chagrin. And I’ve brought it back home again, a full circle. Oh and by the way, I’ve decided that this trip has really spoiled flying for me. Motion sickness on the way there and a head cold on the way back = not fun. I’m going to forget about how disagreeable flying was this trip and only remember how much fun we had in between the flights.

So, I have a cold. My nose is red and I’m snuggled up in a hoodie on the couch with my laptop and a mound of tissues.

And I’m wearing fabulous new cowboy boots.

I’m a Yankee through and through; I haven’t the slightest desire to move anywhere outside of New England. I love my home. Yet, I’ve wanted to own a pair of cowboy boots all my life. Don’t ask me why because I won’t have a coherent answer for you beyond, “I just like them!” When we started planning this trip to Texas, there was a small voice in the back of my mind that kept whispering, “Bring back cowboy boots.”

Well, I did. And they’re pretty spiffy, if I do say so myself. Far more fun of a remembrance of my trip than a head cold, that’s for sure!

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