Re-entry + Rehydration

I fly back into Kentucky with mermaid hair.

Unwashed, it holds the scent of a salty, ocean breeze. I don't want to let it go, but 3 flights and no sleep has me begging for a hot shower (the kind that restores and restarts).


Gray Whale Cove

I walk into our home thirsty. Skin (and thoughts) dry and sunburnt. I say hello to Floyd and Daisy, pour a cold glass of water, and take it with me to a steamy shower.

I'm rehydrating with water, soup, tea, and more water. I'm slowly feeling fluid again, somersaulting through waves like the dolphins we chased up Half Moon Bay.

I'm refusing to sleep, even though I've been awake for over 24 hours. I'm fast-tracking back to my time zone and my re-entry looks like laundry and back-to-back episodes of Breaking Bad and more water, now in a stemless wine glass.

There is so much to catch up on, notes from friends, magic making adventures of others that included me in spirit, chores around the house, photo sharing with family. I'm holding off one more day, mostly.

I suffer through re-entries. Even Monday's call for a certain routine to make the transition out of the weekend softer.

I want to show you all the pictures of my adventures on the west coast, but the ones that haven't made their way to Instagram will be saved for future e-letters and blog posts. If you're on Insta, you can see the visual story at #lustingsanfrancisco.


Gifts from the west coast

I want to retrace my steps with words, but today I rehydrate and fold clothes.

Once the sun goes down, I'll take a chamomile tea early to bed with a copy of Bella Grace, a gift from Deb Taylor that was waiting for me on the kitchen table.

Today I ease out of vacation and into everyday routines. I'm lingering and lingering, because the rest of September holds so much goodness and it is bound to fly by. (hint: it includes a photography course, a local gathering with fellow creatives, and a slumber party with a Life Created Blissfully guest writer.)

The bell just chimed on the washer and my glass is almost empty... there is laundry and there is water to ease me back in.