A few more cabooses than boxcars, not that there's anything wrong with that.



I migrated back up to Sandusky for a day with Joel so he and his lovely wife could scout out the town for his upcoming internship. The waves welcomed me back with their soft crashing hellos and I instantly got a little antsy to be back near water. Soon enough I hope.


Done and Done

Brew week is finally over, I am finally sober and done watching people drink out of little glasses for a while.



We bend,
throw me back.
Off of the tin roof,
I'll learn to float.
Off the shore,
not the lake.
Blue not black,
to break our backs.


West by West

I am now the furthest east from the furthest west I have ever been. After Eastern Colorado, Nebraska and Kansas it's nice to nestle myself back into the hills. Home is were the view is so as long as you can love what's in front of you. After over a thousand miles with my nose against a car window I have rediscovered America via Rt. 70 with my reflection intertwining with the never ending scenics.