I finally made it to Minneapolis. I’m fairly certain my bottom is several inches wider and it’s not just because of the junk food! I thought yesterday’s drive across Nebraska was going to feel long, but today, Iowa felt much bigger than Nebraska. What is it about driving that is so exhausting? I’m hoping this is like childbirth in that I’m going to forget the pain by the time I have to drive back to Nevada.

All kidding aside, it was a beautiful ride. The other day, I drove right through the Rocky Mountains, ascending to over 10,000 feet and there was still snow. Yesterday, crossing the fresh, green plains of Nebraska, the fields were full of cattle with their calves and horses with their foals; and, today Iowa, well Iowa is Iowa. I feel nostalgic being back in Minnesota. I’m staying in a neighborhood I love and it is being home again. Bittersweet because two important people I loved are no longer here, but their ashes are. I brought them home.

What is “home” anyways? Is it a place, is it a thing, is it someone, is it the memories we have? Minneapolis will always be “home” for me, but do I want to live here? Can we ever really go back home? I’m hoping the next 6 weeks will help me answer that question. I can tell you that if I could rent the apartment I’m in right now permanently, I’d be quite tempted.