whistling dixie

There's a giant D engraved onto one of the ridges that enclose St. George, Utah, where we've taken up a temporary residence. At night, the D glows. Eerily.

The state university, located among the motor hotels and real estate offices of downtown St. George, is called Dixie State.



I have no idea what a "dixie" is or even where this post is going, but, for M and I, this trip has been all about "whistling dixie."

Between Aa and our various committments, we've been fairly run off our feet.

Which has been well-documented here - I've even had to invent a new topic category called "complaining."



Which will hopefully cease once I settle into the new routine, mid-March or thereabouts.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share a few pictures I took late today, when in the midst of laundry and Aa's meal-time, M and I were told to take a walk.

So we drove ten minutes out of town and pulled into a small-ish parking lot just off the highway.



Five minutes later, we were billy-goating from one crag to another in Red Cliffs Desert Reserve, rock-picking on the flats and horizon-tweaking on the edges.

And, for nearly ten minutes, we sat and held each other and took deep breaths.

And it was bright and fine and I do like my love very much and I'm so glad for the opportunities I've been given and also earned this past year.