One could say that I have officially hit the trail. After years of not being able to travel farther than a few miles from my home, I can now go almost anywhere at anytime. It's weird! I can't shake the feeling that I have to go home.
But I have left that home, somewhat reluctantly, to visit the place I lived for twenty years until just over one year ago. I hoped to visit friends, to sing at the open mic I frequented back then, and to eat at the restaurants I loved and dearly miss.
I drove part way there yesterday to make today's trip a tad shorter. It's just me and my dog. The plan is to stay one night at a friend's house, and to move to an airbnb the next day for a few days.
Except that I just got a call from the friend whose house I am supposed to sleep tonight. He told me he got a new dog (English bulldog) a few days ago, hasn't been sleeping well, and is super stressed. So you're thinking he doesn't want me to come, right?
WRONG! He thinks he might be having a heart attack, and if he's not there when I arrive, he told me to go right in and take care of his two dogs (the new one and another that has been dying for well over a year) and multiple cats. While you might also think I am unhappy about this, you would be wrong again. I am glad I will be there to help him.
But I am sure hoping he is wrong about that heart attack, and he just needs some sleep and some TLC. Maybe all that fabulous cheese I'm bringing as a host gift isn't such a fabulous gift after all.
This is my entry to 
