Welcome back, welcome back, Welcome back

My adventures began on the snowy mountains roads of Vermont. Having crossed back into the US to begin a tour with Little Scream, I found myself lamenting that this would be the last time I would see snow until next winter (or until the freak April snow storm inevitably happens in Montreal). Maybe lamenting isn't the right word....excited? elated? You get the picture. I tried to take some pictures (using the camera generously lent to me by Lisa), but mountain photos out of a moving vehicle don't really do any justice. It was absolutely gorgeous, to say the least.

No wonder Vermonters are so...wait, what ARE Vermonters?

Flying, or "you are all, at this moment, actively a part of my living nightmare"

Despite my best efforts, caravans or covered wagons have not made a comeback as a viable method of transportation. Due to this, I found myself sitting on plane bound for Dallas out of Newark, desperately trying to control to impending sense of doom I felt. All logic fails to make any appeals. All I can hear is the roar of the engines and a screaming baby and as the plane wobbles through turbulence and I have another drink to maybe bring a vague sense of calm I think "why oh why are they making me pay $4 to watch television?!". No amount of Pranayama breathing can make me forget I am 40,000 feet (thats 12,192 meters for my metric system friends) in the air wobbling up and down and up and up and down and...

I did, however, take some photos, thinking "this is probably the last photo I will ever take. But if it's not, they'll make nice blog pics..."

New Jersey has never looked better.


Landing in Tejas.

But in fact I survived, much to my own amazement, though apparently not to any of the people having "normal" reactions to flying. That is to say, they managed to stay uncurled out of a ball. Imagine that...