'Tis already a week since this was written but I want to get it up. Much has happened since and will soon be told of.

At this moment I'm bound for Vienna aboard a train, my journey leading back to Poland and friends therein. At times such as these I become weary of the journey, happy to return to my friends but saddened to say goodbyes to others I leave behind. Feel longing for someone to share this journey with, to sit beside me here and share of all that was and might be now. Yesterday within myself I could feel the emotional disconnect as it reared its ugly head upon my heart. Perhaps the sense is necessary though the experience of starting to lose relationships built while they still surround me is an entirely new dynamic perpetrated on this year's voyage. Never am I without hope but a nagging desire to know my place and to begin to build the life that my heart and life has been preparing itself for with incredible excitement. My guide is sure of that I know; he leads me to places and people such as in the last weeks that I shall never forget nor regret the time shared in their company. I look out now at the Austrian countryside before me and see his mark in the deep green of each leaf and in the majestic glow of the setting sun. Am rejuvenated to know that one who could paint such a scene has my heart and life in his tender hands.

A sign of such care was the wonderful experiences of two weekend's ago in the region of Prekmurje, Slovenia's northeast. I met there with Karla and Benjamin's respective families and was lavished with hospitality and the chance to journey to the area's few landmarks. This is the way to experience a place, through the hearts and homes of those who live within its borders. At these homes the plates were never emptied, the best of homemade drink never far from my lips (in my humble opinion the myriad of fruit alcohols of Croatia and Slovenia make a majority of others comparable to urine), and the conversation continuing until the late hours. On the first night at Karla's house after the tasting of fresh-from-tree-and-bush plums and currants there was discussion of area house prices particularly that of the neighbors. I had visions of a quick purchase when was told that the price of 25000 euro was considered expensive as in Phoenix I am unsure if one can buy a portable toilet these days for such a price. On Saturday and then Sunday morning the majority of time was spent with Benjamin's mother and grandmother. Luckily his mom speaks a fair amount of English and the quantity of philosophical discussion only worked to rapidly improve it. I really know how to lay it on thick from th onset asking one who hasn't spoken English in years about the meaning of life and perspective on who God is. Saturday eve we enjoyed the cello expertise ('twas quite brilliant) of a chap who was convinced that the Slovene word for thank you was none other than "Koala" rather than the real deal "Hvala." At the end of each musical masterpiece played he would either roar that out or whisper it in deep, resounding, forty years of smoking tones. Had the audience quite tickled by eve's end. In the final hours of our visit to Prekmurje Sunday we again had a marvelous feast at Karla's following the practice building of the fam's tent (Karla and Benjamin were off camping for a week). The tent building, meal, and few sups of borovnica zganje (blueberry mixed with alcohol; the best I've tasted of the mixes by the way) were enough to have me giddy as a school girl for drive home and day's end. Nothing beats a weekend of gluttonous gorging, zganje slugging, and philosophical chatting to round out one's time in a place. I look forward to the day of my return to that place and those people.

There is more to come about my current local and my exercises in dental torture. Tonight I must be off to sleep and tomorrow I should be able to spew a few sentences of reprisal.