||[Feb. 19th, 2015|12:56 pm]
Home: delighted to return to Christine, cats, my teapot, my laptop, and California weather. I had gotten to the point where 25 degrees was warm.
Friday night Burlington NJ 8 °
Saturday Burlington NJ 32 ° | 12 °
Sunday Burlington NJ 19 ° | 6 °
Monday morning Burlington NJ Actual: 15 ° | 1 °
Left for Trenton to catch train to DC noonish
In Trenton until 4:45 pm 18 ° | 1 °
Arrived in DC Union Station around 7:45 20 ° | 10 °
Ft Belvoir, VA late that evening after white knuckle drive in the snow event by Dad on hwy 1. (Wager that the interstate would have been cleared but whatever)
Tuesday Ft Belvoir 29 ° | 13 °
Wednesday morning Ft Belvoir 34° | 11°
Meanwhile, i think it was in the 70s here in the bay area.
The Quaker gathering was wonderful, meeting songquake in person for the first time, and seeing people i've grown to know from the mailing list and previous midwinters. I've been involved with the community for seven years now and this is my fourth midwinter gathering. It is impressive what warm community we build over such time and space.
The time with Mom & Dad in the DC area was lovely, yet revealed their continued stress. In the language of trauma therapy, they trigger so easily and stay so activated. Mom's cognitive capabilities are concerning. The second morning at the hotel breakfast, when we were leaving, she asked if we needed to go up or down. Is she so distracted and inside her head that she hadn't tracked our movements for the past three rides in the elevator? Or had she forgotten? We napped and talked and took a small walk, which was probably far more relaxing than if we had gone into the city for museums and such.
I listened to the Mary Russell series episode, Locked Rooms on the way out, some evenings, and on the train south. Last night on the flight home i listened to The Language of Bees. It is particularly interesting to listen to The Language of Bees because the first Mary Russell novel i listened to was the sequel, The God of the Hive, in 2011. Since then i have been working up from the first in the series, set in April 1915, to this story of August 1924.
I am reintegrating home slowly.