Here we go again ...

Sunday night, packing my bag again.  Philadelphia this week.  Back in four days, not bad.  I don't know what to think most days.  I love to travel, I love the adventure, the break from routine, but it's sometimes unsettling to be away from home.  But maybe it's the unsettling feeling that turns me on. That keeps me from going crazy in routine-as-hell-Wyoming. 

I finished - okay, started AND finished - my final project today for the only class I kept for this PhD semester.  My husband golfed.  I was happy to have the time to focus - but of course, my wine collection called to me.  My kitchen called to me.  My husband, after being denied dessert last night (no ice cream for the blueberry compote), was so devastated, that I decided to make a killer batch of chocolate chip cookies, one of my best efforts, I might add.  Spaghetti & meatballs for a mid-day lunch/dinner for me, since no one in the world makes it as good as I do (probably because most chefs ruin it with cheese!).  Then a bacon-cheeseburger-macaroni-and-cheese for my husband after 18 holes of chilly spring southwest Wyo golf.  He said it was a definite hit, but my extreme hatred for cheese kept me from tasting it, I know flavor profiles, though, so I knew it was a hit - bacon, grass-fed beef, cheese he picked out - yeah, I rock.