Last week I was at the airport once again. I hugged my parents goodbye, and then got in the car and drove away as they made their way to the gate. It was a relief to be on the other side of that gate. I love going, it's my favorite thing. But I don't like leaving. Goodbyes. Just being there turned my stomach to knots.

I'm working at the YMCA. Strange. I worked there up until a couple of days before I left for Denmark my first year. It feels like those three years never happened, and I'm just there, where I was. I don't know what to think about that. So mostly I don't. Except I find myself missing the kids that I knew that have grown beyond the preschool rooms and are now in school where I don't see them. Some of the kids that I knew from the baby room are now four years old, but I can still recognize some of them. One that was my favorite as a baby is now my favorite as a three year old. Just don't tell anyone because it's unprofessional to have favorites in the childcare business.

So I spent the week alone in this big house in the middle of nowhere. With my dog. It was fun, home alone is always a good time, for a while. I locked myself out once and had to break in. I'm not use to there being no one else in the house. This morning on my way to work I encountered a herd of around 30 elk, in the road and right beside me. Some had enormouse racks. They all stopped and stared, like posing for a picture. When they realized I didn't have my camera, they resumed their grazing and I drove on my way.

I'm officially CPR and First Aid certified again. OK, well, I don't have my cards yet, but if someone is dying I don't think they'll be asking to see my card anyway.

Sunday night I went and saw The Village by myself at the three dollar theater. I don't know what people were so disappointed about, I had a great time, thoroughly pleased with it. There's something peculiarly enjoyable in seeing a suspenseful movie by onself.