summer 2015 by the numbers.

Eight weeks (the longest I have ever been away from Idaho in my life – and just a taste of what’s to come, presumably)
Four kids in the greatest language group ever
Four nametags
Three cabins
Three ticks
Three out-of-the-blue vomiting episodes
Three letters from my boyfriend
Two different colds
Two sailing accidents
One bee sting
One sprained ankle
One birthday (twenty years)
Innumerable mosquito bites (plus some horseflies in the mix)
Countless late nights
Countless early mornings
all the beautiful memories

for the other things I did. I got so caught up in the time, the people and the good, honest work we do every day that I forgot to keep any sort of track of all the adventures I was having, but fortunately we have our beloved invisible blogmaster.

I had a ridiculous adventure on my way home, as well: flew from Minneapolis and would have landed in Denver to catch a connector to Boise but for the massive thunderstorm sitting directly atop the Denver airport. So we landed in Cheyenne and waited half an hour for the storm to dissipate, then turned around and headed back. When we reached Denver, all the connections were waiting…except Boise. So I spent the night in Denver airport, beginning to feel like an alien had crawled in my throat to start a colony and cold in my shorts and sweatshirt, texting with my mom as we tried to get me on a flight that would actually get me into Boise the next day, as most of Southwest’s alternate options were not optimistic. Finally we got the flights straightened out and I moved from the gate where I had been waiting, hoping to get on standby to Las Vegas, to the gate where I would go to San Francisco, by tunnel train, in the silent-as-a-tomb Denver airport at three a.m. Not an experience I should like to repeat. Slept some at the San Francisco gate, flew there, got off the plane, ducked into the bathroom and vomited. Thank goodness I packed my toothbrush in my backpack (my luggage had long since gone to Boise via Las Vegas). Got some Gatorade and crackers and settled in to wait; made it home to Boise at about noon.

Home sweet home.

I leave again in six days.

Such is life, I suppose.


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