Back from Banff

If you want to forget about politics, work, Obama, blogging, and everything else that's been filling your mind for the last few months, go somewhere that will give you this for a view:


Or this:


Which means staying here:


That's a very small portion of the very large, castle-like Fairmont Banff Springs hotel in Alberta, and one of the few pictures I managed to take before the battery in my camera died. Which wouldn't have been a problem, except that I forgot to pack my recharger. Even so, I did get a picture (of a picture) of Marilyn Monroe, who apparently once played golf at the resort while wearing a single sock:


And of a prominently displayed t-shirt for sale that helped prove I really was in "The Texas of Canada":


I could go on about the details of the weekend -- of playing with another guest's Jack Russell terrier because I missed my own dog so much, our friends' wedding with the Rockies as a backdrop, the buffalo lasagna I couldn't stop eating, how you can wander the halls of the "castle" for most of a day and not even begin to discover all the little lounges and rooms and assorted nooks and crannies, and how my wife and I both got recharged and literally fell in love all over again, if only because I danced in public for half the night at the wedding reception. I could, but I won't. Or at least, I won't right now.

I will say that the smog and wildfire smoke of LA have never seemed so stomach-churning on our return, from anywhere. We did have to come back, though, if only for one very important reason:


And yes, my wife and I had even bigger smiles when we picked her up this morning...