Biding Time..

It's the beginning of Memorial Day Weekend and I am NOT in Terre Haute, Indiana, at my family's huge annual reunion. I will NOT be waking up at 5am to pile into a van and caravan to Speedway, Indiana, to sit in the stands at the Indianapolis 500, eat burgers and drink sweet tea, cheer for Danica Patrick and watch the policeman stand on the seat of his motorcycle as it careens through the pits. No looking through binoculars at the checkered flag waving madly or wandering through the muggy caverns beneath Tower Terrace as the cement shakes from the power of 33 cars racing by at 200 mph. I'll miss my cousin's dogs romping through the halls of the Holiday Inn, a double wedding shower for two cousins (also sisters) getting married and hours of watching rugrats romping in the Holidome, their little feet slapping the wet tile as they run to grab on to their mothers.

It's okay. I'm spending the weekend with my husband, with whom I have one more week before I fly away to Upstate New York for a summer at Glimmerglass Opera. He and I have been spending as much time as we can muster together. I've even gone so far as to volunteer my services to him as he conducts interviews for a show about the Old Globe Theater's Summer Shakespeare Festival. The television station he works for is relatively understaffed right now so I like to help where I can, hooking up cameras, unrolling cords, putting together laveliere mics. It's fun to watch John work and even more fun to work with him. The picture above is a small break from our last day of interviews. John is thinking about a lighting problem while I relax against the wall. Lighting is not my forte.

I went to my second dance class this morning. Again with Jean Isaacs. I owe her a debt for getting my butt up and moving. Today I felt much better. I made it through the entire class with no qualms at all and, because I'd done all of the phrases on Tuesday, I could cycle my body easily through the movement without my muscle memory giving way to crazy improvisational seizures. And after it all, I still felt sweaty and energized, my shirt soaked and my face flushed and prickly. I'll be back next Tuesday.

Class was followed by a trip to Office Depot to buy supplies for "Orphee" and a box to send some stuff ahead to Cooperstown. As much as I'm trying to delay my inevitable departure in my mind, it is still coming with great speed and I am forced to address it. The big box sitting in the middle of the living room is now a consistent reminder that I will be separating myself from this little family of mine again.

The cats are curious about the box but don't seem to care much about my impending exit in the least. (As long as they still get fed you know..)

The roses that John gave me last week are starting to wilt and dry. Nothing stays perfect forever.