Tuesday, March 06, 2007

home is where the (ritual, train, history) is


-At Trivia last night at Twain's, more and more of our group kept arriving at different times, with happy greetings each time. This Monday night ritual is one of those centering times, where laughter, jokes and good friends are always there (we even win occasionally).

-Falling asleep to the sound of a train echoing through my window. Everywhere I've lived--Texas, Northern Ireland, Atlanta--I can hear a train from my room. Their long-lost whistles always make me feel at home.

-Sleeping in my Aunt Karen's old tennis shirt from high school. It's the closest I'll get to being a tennis star.

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