Hermione

We named our Garmin GPS Hermione. She has a British accent and she thinks she knows everything. It was a short leap.

Last summer the first thing I did after the pink-haired texting teenager left was to take a list of museums and production companies, a pile of resumes and my newest home-printed business cards on the road, guided by Hermione. I was still very unsure of Albuquerque's layout, and under Hermione's care, didn't even need to try to learn it. So, one by one, I entered addresses and followed directions to faraway places. There were two conditions I encountered: either the place was out of business, or it handled only online applications. After I finished the list, I told Hermione to guide me home. She guided me to Interstate 40 eastbound and said, "Drive four hundred thirty five miles and exit right. I exited onto Wyoming Avenue and reprogrammed her to our new home in Albuquerque.

Yesterday, after our Easter dinner with Carmen's Intern Committee chair and her family, we switched on Hermione and told her to take us home. She was very upset when we refused to make all the right turns she suggested, which we knew would take us out of our way. Finally, I took her in hand and looked at her trip info. Once again she was trying to take us home to Massachusetts. I guess I never actually explained to her that our new address was also our new home. Or maybe she just wants to go back to Watertown. I reckon we'll never know.