I was in Spain for 10 days with 6 students and 2 adults. We joined up with four other midwest groups to form a coach bus full of tourists and we saw castles and fortresses, city walls, aqueducts, paintings and narrow streets, pigeons, sunshine, nuns, the subway throng and topless women at the swimming pool. We ate tapas, drank sangria, ate ice cream, bought fans, watched flamenco in a gypsy cave and took pictures of ourselves diving into the Mediterranean waters. We missed our flight back home, stayed one more night and got home on Friday at 8pm. It is Monday morning now and I'm not nearly as tired as I was.
The trip was magical. The trip was unforgettable and I can only say good things. Even the hard parts were wonderful. I wish we could do it again. This is the kind of group I would want to tackle a new adventure with. We make a pretty good team. Perhaps we'll do France next time.
Now I'm home, Jon's off to work and there is a long list of things to do before we're off again. I'm thankful for these empty days. I wish it didn't rain so much, but that means the boys and I can tackle the indoor stuff and be ready for the pool once the sun comes out again. Today is the basement, the bedrooms, the battered walls.
The hard part about the Spain trip was not having my guitar with me. I haven't gone 10 days without playing in a very long time and by the end of the trip I was really jonesing for some music. I wrote a song on the way there and a song on the way back and since I've been home I've been editing and playing and working and recording and I wonder what my family thinks of me in the corner doing songs all day. I missed it so much.
Presently I have four undone songs. That's a record for me. But I'm being patient, I'm listening, I'm playing and waiting for the words to come. They'll come. While I'm vacuuming and dusting they will show up and then I'll scurry to my corner and pick up that guitar. Home sweet home feels real sweet right now.