I flew back into Seattle in early December. It was time to find a home. Or at least someplace to settle down for a while.
Salt Lake City? Sedona? I decided on Austin.
So I made my way on one last side trip to Glaciers National Park and then sped down through Salt Lake City to Vegas and then west and southwest to Liberty Hill, a suburb north of Austin–if Texas admitted there were such things as suburbs.
Good friends awaited me. A nice home. My friend’s puppy that I would dog sit or just have over once in a while. And I would write this book.
