Greetings from the White Mountains of New Hampshire

Whole-food, plant-based version of The Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana recipe

This car is parked at a tourist shop outside of Petrified Forest National Park. This is what the HMS Beagle seems like as I continue to unpack.

Greetings from the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

The same thought occurs to me whenever we return home after seeing the country: was it all a dream?

We are such homebodies, and I’m so private in this simple country life that even now, after so many of these coddiwomples, none of it seems real. Instead, it feels like I’m just waking up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

The word ‘fantastic’ aptly matches the mood. Did we really spend the last five months dancing over White Sands, the Grand Canyon, the Pacific Ocean, Yellowstone, the Sequoias and Redwoods, bison, elk, antelope, sea otters, seals, Key West, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Rockwell, Melville, Dos Passos, Twain, and Faulkner?