Jackson Hole

Back in NYC. Afraid.

Just a few days ago, I was here:



That's the Grand Tetons.
That's my family. The only one missing is my big brother. I'll call him B.
He and his lovely had some scheduling conflicts.
They were missed sorely.
But we'll hopefully all be together on May 15th here.
When I get married. Which still seems kind of odd.
I've never gotten married before.
And we are not totally conventional so I wasn't expecting to get married.
Though I desperately wanted to.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself here.




That's my Dad, Yeti. Here he is again, to the right, closer-up:
He found that fur coat in the closet.
It's not his. He doesn't own any fur. But it sure kept him warm.
At 5 degrees Fahrenheit, he was sweating.
He's 68, and in alright shape.
I've been known to teach him yoga whenever visits allow.

Though he did fall and he heard his knee pop while snow shoeing.
The next day, it was fine.
Which is surprising, because that same knee's ligament was torn way back when.


On Christmas day, my mom's favorite day of the year,
she found out she's afraid of these:



The horses at the caretaker's house.
I think that's a big pile of poo they're standing on.
Our horses were allowed to romp around free.
And mingle with the wild elk.
Which we never did see.
Oooh! That rhymed!


They encircled my Mum. Then, they farted on her.


Isn't this photo beautiful (thanks to my cameraman)? This was the view as we flew into Jackson.

The first day we got groceries.
We drank a "White Christmas", concocted by my brother's in-laws. It was mighty tasty but went straight to my head.

The next day I woke up with a killer sore throat.
The temp was -5. I didn't feel that cold because it was so D-R-Y. The sore throat would linger on till...well, I still have it :)


We exchanged no presents on this Christmas.
Just hiked in the snow,
did yoga with the kitty (and taught my bro, Jo, a class!),
and talked to the family.



Oh! There was a kitty there.
His name is Denver, and he stole my heart.
I am a dog person but have a soft spot for chunky, grey cats.
We walked in and saw him on a little pink bed.
The rich relatives had gotten him to hunt mice a while back.
They haven't seen him in a year-and-a-half, only the caretaker sees him.
Poor fat li'l pumpkin head.






I miss my family already.
Used to be around them every day.
Now around my brothers once a year,
my folks more often than that.
But I love them so much my heart hurts.

Back in the city, I'm cranking up the career machine.
Getting back to business.
Passing out cards.
Trying to get a job.
Cleaning out the fridge.
Sorting out my health insurance.
Trying to find a good GP.

Trying to get cast.

...I'd be happy living in Wyoming.

Once I'm back in NYC, all I can think about is work or lack thereof.

Constantly striving to make this my home.

No photos to go along with this little rant.

But I certainly love my apartment in Queens with my beloved.
We've created quite a nice little home for ourselves here. The apartment is what we have carved out for ourselves here.