Tango and I are in the auto shop waiting room. Everyone who comes in – parts folks, customers – loves Tango. Pat, pat, scratch, scratch. As usual, he gets all the attention. I am just the one who holds his leash. The van is in good hands here, and they will get me on the…
Seven nights ago, I posted about staying overnight in Livingston, MT, at the truck stop near the freeway. I awoke at 2:30 AM to hop the westbound Greyhound. Tonight, I am at the same truck stop, in the same van. That is where the similarity ends. I need not wake up until 6:30 AM, a real…
By returning to Spokane I completed the circle that I began last August–a long journey that changed me from the inside out. Or, maybe, it laid me bare by peeling off, from the outside in, the layers that accumulated over the decades. Maybe both. Either way, I am glad for it. The best part of…