I think the photo above looks bright and Christmasy.
It's actually an August rose in the Willamette College garden.
Last week-end it was a flight from Chicago; this week-end it's a flight to Chicago. Last week-end my son was delayed a day when Southwest cancelled a series of flights out of Chicago after their sad accident at Midway. Tonight my daughter's flight into Chicago from Portland was delayed a couple of hours; I guess we'll know whether she makes her connection if she makes her connection. So far they're saying that this is a repeat of last night and, if that has any predictive value, she'll get in around 2:00 a.m.
(I can hardly believe it. I haven't seen that girl since the day after Labor Day when I left her to pick up the pieces of her life in a new college in a new city 2000 miles from home less than a week after Katrina. She picked them up just fine. I guess that means she's turned into the woman I was hoping for.)
A 2:00 a.m. arrival gives me just enough time to fall asleep on the couch for a few minutes before taking same son back to the airport for his Christmas present trip to see his girlfriend in San Diego. A year ago it was his twin brother going to France to see his girlfriend. These kids don't waste a lot of time on the ground.
Today my friend Lisa posted a wonderful entry about what kind of writing she wants to do in her new blog. Or her old blog. Wherever. I'm right there with you, Lisa, in wanting to use my blog for some Real Writing. However my brain is in no way geared up for that tonight. All I'm capable of is blathering on about:
two trees up, one with lights, neither with decorations;
kitchen 1/16th (maybe) of the way painted;
turkey not yet ordered;
no presents purchased except that ticket to San Diego(next online stop!);
mission accomplished: shopping trip with sons for
Girlfriend Gift and Hostess Gift;
somewhere between 20 and 35 people here for dinner in exactly 9 days but I probably won't know how many until, yeah, 9 days from now;
trying to keep up with the latest news from Tulane University, which latest news changes approximately every 30 seconds;
and until Thursday night I have to remain marginally focused at work, at least enough to talk about the Mayflower, the Vietnam War, and the 17th-century world economy to students who are themselves increasingly focused on Chanukah but are quite willing to be diverted by Christmas.
Well, at least I'm not a divorce lawyer anymore. This is about the day when the phone lights up with calls from parents whose formerly beloveds have just conveyed the news that they will not be returning the kids after Christmas vacation and that if they want to call their lawyers they can just go ahead and do it.
'Tis the season.
I just want the plane on the ground.