Going Into Turkey Week Like a Turkey With Its Head Cut Off (But with An Incredible Sunset Over NYC via Amtrak - It Makes All the Difference)

I'm home.

I'm home and I have a 1,001 new writing projects I want to begin, but I need to finalize the ones that have due dates that are more pressing than my dreams (although I started two on Amtrak from Baltimore to Bridgeport). I told my mom last night, "I don't know why we choose airplanes when we can take advantage of rail transportation - so much more comfortable and utile. I get so much thinking and writing done."

As we pulled out of NYC, I looked up and the windows looked like they were being painted for artistic display in a museum. I quickly switched seats to take it all in, but I love the way the colors here bounce off all the grays).

I unpacked, started laundry, did laundry, and immediately went into editing mode, which will continue this morning with colleagues across NY and PA in preparation for LRA in Tampa the week after we give thanks on Mt. Pleasant.

That skyline, though. What a miraculous phenomena to witness, especially on a rail car that was pretty empty. It was a great way to depart NCTE and to transition back to the Stratford work this week.

My lord, the work that we do at this time of year. I love of every second of it, but I AM WIPED OUT.

Meanwhile, the kid turns 24 today, and sadly I can't be in Syracuse to celebrate with him (the package arrived last week). I'm sure he won't have much freedom to blowout candles or hear birthday songs as his academic and work life fill his Mondays. I'm very thankful that my mom made him a cake, despite the grumbles of my father who said, "Sue, not everyone likes cake."

He does.

It's crazy to think he's 24 already and I'm channeling where I was at the same age, with my long hippie-hair, work with the Beargrass Creek Task Force, and beginning life as a teacher in Louisville, Kentucky. I shake my head at moments like these and think, "Whoa. How does all of this fly by so fast?"

I'm simply thankful that he'll be home later this week and I hope I can make the space and time as tranquil as his life deserves.

He, like the sunset over NYC, brings joy to my world. Here's to the week ahead.