No place like home

A comfortable house is a great source of happiness. It ranks immediately after health and a good conscience.
Sydney Smith (1771–1845), writer

I am a homebody. I am perfectly content to stay home, read, hang out, and relax. Traveling to downtown everyday fighting traffic both ways is wearing, so when I get the opportunity to stay put I take it with zeal.

Seeing Bob Dylan was a big deal and it gave me an opportunity to see brother and sister-in-law’s house, which is very nice. The photo is just a portion of the view from their backyard, which allows them to survey much of Tucson proper. While I was there, I saw part of a summer monsoon coming through with the lightening and thunder.

I started my drive to Tucson on Tuesday morning and I got a late start so I ran into all the rush hour traffic, but I am on vacation and not in a hurry, so I ignored most of it. Eighteen-wheelers passing each other like glaciers moving nowhere fast were my only frustration on the way there. I enjoyed the rainstorm driving through the desert.

I left last night at 8 and pulled into the driveway at 3 a.m. I sang duets with Dylan all the way home for seven hours to help me stay awake, which was easier than driving out there.