Constant light, not constant sun.

Texas

Alaska

I stepped outside to stand under a sign reading Alaska Air and waited for my cousin Travis. 85 degree air soaked through my skin, breathing a smile into my face. Texas. Why do I love it so much?
Travis and I had Tex-Mex for dinner. 
By 2 o'clock the next day I had applied for my VISA, solidifying next semester in Paris, and lay on a matt in the pool with a Chihuahua lounging on my back, both of us drowsy and content. I paused from Hemingway's A Moveable Feast, to reassure the little pup of his cuteness, thinking again about Texas.  It's hot, the people are loud, the land is scraggly and flat. But I am a Texan. The terrain possesses a wild, defiant beauty, the people are handy and happy, and the sun is always shining. I've found that constant light in Alaska does not necessitate cloudless skies 24/7.

After a frantic day of cleaning, Katherine and I moved downstairs into our own basement room, complete with individual closet space and separate beds specifically for our use. I spent 10 hours sleeping in it last night before waking up for a refreshing 60 degree run under, yes, a cloudy sky. My afternoon was spent in Kaladi Brothers with a warm beverage, pastry, and bowl of tomato and blue cheese soup.  Reading another of Hemingway's works, I am surprised at the frequency of the Parisian characters' visits to cafés, even the poorer sort. It inspired this afternoon of coffee and writing. Now I am at the house. Maybe the weather will cheer up enough to lure us on a hike up Flattop Mountain but I think the lazy day will continue 'till bed.