Even Cowgirls Get the Blues

The joys of being back in New York...

Walking to the Farmer's Market with a double stroller, eighty pounds worth of sleeping boys; feeling the chilly April air and mist against my skin; wondering if the tulip trees will make it through the way too late in the season Nor'Easter; meeting friends at a moment's notice; catching up on thousands of pages of New Yorker articles; groaning over the events I missed while browsing said New Yorker pages; trekking out to BAM for Matthew Bourne; watching Jack run down the soccor field and back and forth and back and forth...

So glad to be home - so glad, in fact, that I haven't had a thing to write. Well, I have had a thing - but, I'm verbalizing everything to anyone who'll listen mostly because for a full month I was in self-imposed holding it all in mode!

No more trips anytime soon!

I've taken a vow - as I was innocently asked last night upon saying 'goodbye' to J, "But you're not going off to any distant lands this time, right?"

No distant lands.