here.

just a wee note to say hello from london. have arrived. the only transatlantic mishap was a can of coke spilled in my lap by drunk man while i slept. i thought i peed myself. however, pee isn't carbonated. so. now i'm just sticky...

but happy to be in a breezy, warm london, although j-lo and ja-rule are on the radio. a girl is never safe.

raincoats

i finally got my raincoat today, on my lunch hour, under a cloudless sky.

(on sale at REI for $18.00, fyi.)

the currency is officially exchanged; my wallet is a wad of british pounds and four dollars.
gonna take a sentimental journey sarah harmer is singing right now.
we leave for england/ireland tomorrow.

i doubt there will be much blogging to be done during the transatlantic trip, but please don't forget about me. i need you.
i'll be back. and i'll try to write while i'm gone. somehow. (annie dillard does not like the word, 'somehow'. avoid the jargon of the day she says.)

so. i am actually sad tonight. mostly, i think i'm tired and half-packed, hoping my jeans dry in time...
but. i love to travel, yet hate to leave home. i really appreciate my bed on nights like these (as i snuggle under blankets while typing). i'm homesick. goodbye book case. goodbye desk. goodbye hamper full of clothes i never get around to washing. i'll miss you.

i'm a friggin sap.

just think: friday night i'll be watching star wars in london with my dear friend, jude. unbelievable.

alright, friends. i'm off to bed. be well. be safe.
peace to you. xo.

(i'll miss you.)

going, all along

everything was honeysuckle tonight.

the rain has stopped; the skies have flung wide the true gates of spring, and we had a sunset.

i saw it: i was there.

i felt like riding my horse after work today, and luckily i had mud-caked sneakers and a saddle in the trunk of my cr-v. so, i skipped down the hall of the office, bounded down the stairs to the parking lot, and peeled out. yeehaw.

it was just the two of us tonight. dakota and his girl. recently, horseback riding has become such a social phenomenon in my life. curtis likes to go with me. other friends like to come. et cetera. and it's wonderful, don't get me wrong. i love the company and sharing this bizarre other world. it's like spreading the gospel.

but.

it's been a good while since dakota and i have had some quality one on one time. tonight was our night. i wooed him with a granola bar, caught him in the far pasture and had to ride him up the gravel road. we trotted. cloppety-clop. he spooked at his own shadow (a horse's random ohmigod!) i laughed and called him a goof. (i think he resents that.)

we meandered along the trail. i took my feet out the stirrups and closed my eyes a lot. we trudged through the thick, hanging brush of a rain-saturated forest. we dodged fallen limbs. we looked for dry patches of trail to gallop through.
we frightened small woodland creatures.

we smelled things. my God. the pasture, the meadow, the forest--it was all like incense: smoky air mingled with honeysuckle. jasmine. unidentifiable sweet scents. (i'm no horticultural expert here, friends...) every flower was bursting with life and color and water. here we all are, they said, welcome. myself and the horse nodded hellos as we passed.

i'm reminded of emily dickinson:

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice --
I just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton -- sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman --
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at least --
I'm going, all along.

all the alleluias.

ever have those days when unexpected friendship and encouragement come out of the woodwork, alongside a good bottle of cabernet? i have so many thank yews for so many life-speaking friends and their words.

i'm caught in the alleluias of it all.