From Guatemala to my parent’s house near Seattle, I embarked on a 30-hour journey which included eight vehicles (including boats, shuttles, planes, and cars). It was quite the trek. Luckily, I had the good fortune to observe some wonderful cloud formations from the window seat during my flight from Guatemala to Dallas. After seeing the clouds near Acatenango, I now fancy myself a bit of a cloud enthusiast.

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After finagling my way onto a slightly earlier flight, I was repeatedly delayed by technical difficulties, thunderstorms, and reroutes. At long last, I finally arrived at my sister Sara’s house for Father’s Day (later than I was originally scheduled). I also had to go back to the airport after dinner to pick up my bag, but by 9pm or so I was finally home in time to watch the sunset over Lake Sammamish. One of the best views there is.

Waking up a bit before 5am (my body is displeased with me), I decided to take a stroll up to Interlake High School and pop my head into the institution where I spent four years of my life. High school definitely wasn’t my favorite thing ever, but I still felt some nostalgia coarse through my veins as I briefly wandered the halls. Just another part of the path.

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Once my dad and sister got home, it was time to put the boat in the water for the summer. This is always an ordeal. The endeavor strikes fear in even the boldest of Husebys. In fact, my family told me that they had unsuccessfully attempted to complete the task the day before. However, when they reached the boat launch, they were informed that it was closed for the day. Making a U-turn with a boat straggling behind you is no easy feat. Imagine our delight when, in the midst of Take Two this afternoon, we successfully reached the boat launch only to find that we had neglected to bring the keys to the boat.

Universe: 2; Huseby family: 0. Several lengthy reversals later (including an attempt to stop traffic while taking up the whole street), we returned to the boat launch, waved hello to the parking attendant for the second time that hour, and plopped the watercraft in its natural habitat. After finally negotiating the propeller all the way in the water (a battle which we almost lost), we were off!

Lake Sammamish will always be home. It was great to feel the wind kiss my face as Katie (the finest younger sister in all the lands) captained the boat towards its port.

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After some smooth sailing (finally), we arrived at Marina del Huseby.

Getting back to my homeland has felt great. The trees provide a certain energy that matches the beauty of the water. The air is clean. The days are long. Summer in the PNW has the best weather–I’ll hear no arguments to the contrary! After months of changing beds, languages, and time zones, it’s good to be home.