I've always found airplane-window photography excruciatingly dull, except for my fine portraits. Behold -- the balmy tropical isles of Denmark:
Apparently, Copenhagen's airport has won all kinds of coveted awardery for being the best/coolest/most architechurally forward/efficient airport. I love how this part looks like a cathedral. Or rather like the space-age corridor to the Wizard of Oz's chamber:
Look how special -- a private smoking cabin! How relaxing for everyone!
Seattle was beautiful, as always. I hadn't realized how spectacular the autumnal tree colors were in that town. The leaves were so mesmerizing that I was unable to get it together enough to photograph them. But here is a picture of Krista's cat, Isabel. She and I spent many quiet hours thinking deep thoughts at one another.
After several days visiting Krista, Kathy, Jen, Brenda, Judy, Marcia and others, it was down to my dad's in the Columbia Gorge region. Ridiculously beautiful. Or, if one is to trust the legion of local bumper stickers, "IT'S GORGE-OUS!"
Down at Dad's, I'm afraid to report that I was unwittingly turned onto a particularly wicked, a uniquely evil and unforgiving addiction. I'm talking about Nips. And I say it loud and proud because I feel in my heart there are others out there like me, those who sometimes have Nips for dinner. Or get out of bed for one. Or two. Or a box. And, of course, guess what's NOT available in Denmark? Yes. Cold turkey, my friends. Rough days. My best advice to you now is that if you've never had a Nip, please -- don't start. (Send them to me instead.)
Off to Arizona! A layover in Salt Lake City afforded a fabulous view of the Great Salt Lake. American terrain is really something else...
Now, I'm not scientifically certain about this, but these two ponds may be the Snapple production facility just outside of SLC. See the red part? My indications tell me that's the strawberry sector of the strawberry-kiwi drink, and the green, obviously kiwi. (I must emphasize, however, that this is only an untested hypothesis.)
Tucson is really an incredible place. I lived here for ten months awhile back, despite the 120-degree days in July and no air conditioning. All of the crazy-delicious Mexican food made the languid sweats well worth it.
While getting my hair cut in Tucson, I noticed this awesome display of a brand-new product that the salon was hawking. Me? I think I'd go for the Fun Betty, myself, were I in the market to dye my pubic hair electric pink. (Although maybe I will surprise my midwife in about 4 months.) Needless to say, I don't think this product would fly in Denmark. Unless it came in red-and-white with a stencil of the Danish flag. Then: Gangbusters.
Oh, yes, lest I forget Mexican food (REAL Mexican food, that is). My poor mother has never been harangued to pull into every single Mexican joint in her whole city like she was last month. What can I say? Baby loves Paco's best, so a pre-airport stop was unavoidable. Can you hear me sighing? And struggling to keep my eyes from crossing? I knew this would be the last food with flavor for a long, long time. Paco, oh, Paco. Do you deliver?
And with that, I was off into the friendly skies, leaving Baby to happily work with all of the guacamole, carne asada soft tacos, chicken flautas and Mug rootbeer he could handle. The next 23 hours saw me from Tucson to Chicago to London-Heathrow to Copenhagen to Sønderborg. And I was very happy to be home.
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