Back To Syracuse In Celebration of My Aunt Joni, And Catching A Pink Sky Where The Trees Used to Be

I tried something new for the 5-hour trip from Connecticut, to ease the dog's nerves (especially because she was like, "Didn't we just come back from there?"). I gave her a mild sedative that my vet gave to me to offer before visits to her practice (Glamis gets outrageous).

It worked. She was mighty calm on the trip, but also calm in the afternoon and all night. We went for a long walk and she was fine then, but the rest of the time she wanted to be curled up close to my side or to sit under my feet. It definitely made her loopy.

I was wishing I could take one, too, after eating a Friday fish fry. My stomach isn't used to the fried food life and I can't digest it like I used to. It simply hurts. Tastes great, but doesn't work well in the tummy.

We will be heading to East Genessee Street in Syracuse this morning to pay respects to Aunt Joni, and to absorb family time with relatives I've not seen in a long while and others I've yet to meet. It is sad that family reunites during somber occasions, but not during happier ones.

Enjoyed the drive north, however, especially the company of Ebony-Grace, the narrator and storyteller in Ibi Zoboi's new middle-grade novel, My Life As an Ice-Cream Sandwich. It is brilliantly crafted and I'm looking forward to the final two hours I have left on the audiobook. I have to save that for Sunday, and the drive back to CT.

For now, however, a day for applauding a life.