This is the view from my hotel in Wenatchee, Washington---rainy, but you can see blossoms (cherry?), river, and beyond the river but not in the photo there are snowy mountains.
Long trip here but I want to say a good word about Jet Blue (no goods or services have been exchanged for this plug!) which is a wonderfully comfortable airline. Non-stop from Boston to Seattle in a roomy seat with a private TV (40 channels; I watched the Red Sox-Yankees game live)
I got a little nervous when the man sitting next to me me turned on take-off, held out his hand, and introduced himself. But it was fine. He was pleasant and didn't need non-stop conversation. I have been skittish about such encounters ever since, years ago, returning from New Orleans, the trip began in a similar fashion, with my seat-mate introducing himself...then talking non-stop for the hours of the flight, and NUDGING me to emphasize things. Elbow to my ribs, sometimes accompanied by "Get it?" He was an interesting cultural phenomenon in that he had been following the Grateful Dead for years and years and years...except for those times when he was unavailable because of incarceration (nudge. nudge. Get it? Get it?)
Just before leaving Boston my Kindle became frozen and I panicked at the thought of not having it for the trip. But Facebook users came to rescue and told me how to re-start. So I was able to read as well as watching baseball, and finished the book "Girl on the Couch" by Lorna Martin, a Scottish journalist who, feeling despair and confusion at the paths her life had taken, entered therapy and then wrote quite an interesting—sometimes funny—account of the year. Never having been therapized myself, I have also never had such a clear picture of the ongoing process. Of course it made me want to rush to Scotland immediately and sign on with Doctor J, as the therapist is called in the book.
(Once, in conversation with someone some years ago, I began a sentence by saying "My psychiatrist. . . " and the other person interrupted with, "Oh yes, MY psychiatrist. . ." and I don't think I ever got a chance to explain that I had meant to continue with "My psychiatrist brother-in-law. . .")
And since I added the disclaimer for Jet Blue, I will also say that I do not get a discount from Amazon for mentioning "Girl on the Couch."
I will go on from here later today to Omak, Washington, where tonight at 7 PM I will speak at the Omak Performing Arts Center. The information I've received says that people will be bringing books to be signed but there will be no book sale because there is "no bookseller available in this small rural community." Sad words! I hope they all have the internet and its booksellers at least.