to writing over the weekend at some point.
Very, very early tomorrow morning I will leave home for CLT, otherwise known as Charlotte-Douglass International Airport for my flight to LGA, otherwise known as LaGuardia Airport. It's a 7:15 am flight out of my beloved Queen City. I will return home at or about 10 pm on Friday night. Short trip. A lot jammed into those few days.
I'll be reunited with three of my dearest friends from Connecticut: my writing group. We wrote our way through more than four years of monthly gatherings to read pieces we'd written, to discuss the ups and downs of our maddening government, to encourage each other in the maddening ups and downs of marriage, divorce, motherhood, and womanhood, and to eat lots of good food. I can't wait to Susie, Pamela, and Judy again. I'm sure we will walk many miles of Manhattan's landscape, eat out at least three times, visit one museum or other, do some shopping, read something we've written, show photos of places we've been, and otherwise try to jam an entire year into 50-some-odd hours together.
And, oh, what a year it has been. It's been a challenging year for all of us, a busy year, and we have far too many stories to tell and far too little time in which to tell them. We have traveled to nearly half a dozen countries between us, sold homes, sublet apartments, taught classes, taken classes, sent children off to college, and still managed to stay relatively sane and to stay in touch. I'm sure I will fill many journal pages during and following our time together.
In the meantime, I must pack my clothes into one bag, shrink-wrap my various and sundry lotions, potions, perfumes, and other unguents in a separate bag and check it in at the airport. So much for never having to check luggage. I know that some passengers are simply choosing to leave their cosmetics behind --> not me. Not hardly. My hair and skin would never forgive me.
Start spreading the news...
I want to be a part of it...
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