And today was the perfect way to end a Josh Ritter song, or the other way around.

I watched her try on each of her hats. Twenty-five of them, and two headbands. She had a routine: pull it off the wall, look in the mirror, spin around, and try to throw it back on the wall. I'm pretty sure this continued for about 15 minutes. At band practice I decided to be friends with the bass player since, really, he keeps me together and stuff. And that's where I am at this point. My back is sore (maybe I am not a yoga prodigy) and my eyes are contact free for the first time in 15 hours. I broke my capo, because of course I am playing soon. The air looks clean enough, and God is good.

i've only written a very few times this year, which i guess is a little bit weird, considering.

i am a thousand miles older and have at least ten more hours of knowledge thanks to public radio and the lives of americans. i am road trips of exhaustion and a sick stomach, and i think that i would love for it to be 50 degrees more often.

i found a place that feels a little bit like a third or fourth or fifth home, except that it is in a neighborhood that i couldn't ever afford, with people that i'm not really sure how i am related to. there is some weird comfort in people that have never heard of tonga and think that the world should be run by the mob. there is a weird comfort in a family that keeps a turtle in the backyard for 40 years because their daughter found it wandering down the street one day. all in all, though, it's more comforting to come home to a naughty boxer puppy and family in the middle of provo. provo, the closest place to terrible, USA..besides wyoming. i guess it grows on you though, because it's changed the way i think about things. i might even miss it a litte bit. dang it.

"we got a bird, and i've been trying to teach him to talk, but he won't, so i just call him dummy."-dixie, age 74.