Inauguration a couple days later. A quick dash to dc to spend the day with my sister. A day of walking, navigating numerous security points, craning for views, realizing we probably should have gotten in earlier because our standing area was already cram packed. But the crowds were magnificent, the people sohelpful and good humored and informed and many of them oh so stylish. We were very close to the pro-life protester who had shimmied up a spruce and bellowed throughout the ceremony. There were occasional shouts of "shut up!" but mostly the crowd took it in stride, let him have his scream. It's all America. The rest of the day was spent hopscotching streets to catch glimpses of the parade, grabbing a bite at Union Station, snatching a Starbucks, smiling and hugging and congratulating one another for having made it, taking in the glorious light of the day, the bands and floats, getting second winds. We ended up on the bleachers right across from Obama's viewing stand in front of the White House. I was told these had been $1,000 a seat, but again they were filled with regular folks, standing on the seats, taking pictures, all in fine cheer. We stayed for about an hour and a half then meandered to a recommended restaurant, Lincoln, on Vermont - both very fitting - where we imbibed some alcoholic concoctions with Mary Todd and Honest Abe monikers and munched on exquisite, tapas-sized dishes. A great day!
On those bleachers while snapping pictures and visiting with the cheerful folk around us, a Norwich Academy band marched by in full blare. The lights blazoned their path. Then several Indiana bands as well, my home state, the state where my sister still lives. A day of present, past, and future all coming together at once. My sister and I, all smiles, by ourselves for a rare time, enjoying every moment of it, conjuring Washington times of our past - a mid-October trip a month before Kennedy's Assassination; Eisenhower's funeral; the bicentennial with friends, a quilted encampment on the mound of the Washington Monument - and now this day, now in the past itself. It was a terrific day.
I'm in Providence RI as I write this, having opened a production of Crime and Punishment, a challenging and thought provoking beginning to a New Year. Except for a few quick trips northward, Vermont does not figure into my plans until April, and even then, who knows for how long. It's an inaugural year, new beginnings, a balancing of country and city on more of a full time basis. New York and Vermont. We're setting out to make New York a more permanent fixture rather than giving it transient status. A new adventure, answering a calling. Lots of questions, lots of how's this going to happen which we're leaving to the universe, confident that answers will come when they're needed, and for now, joy in living, fortify faith, dance with possibilities, see what resonates, and put one foot in front of the other. And it's good and apt that this buoying port of departure into newness is Providence, a providing place, making provisions for the future, a place to which I've returned to work after nearly 30 years, a place that had served as my original port of entry into New England in 1978. A returning and a beginning all at once. I love it. A good way to start the year.
Two of our cats, Astrid and Sofia, are here with me. A harbinger of the change. They weren't too keen on the nomadic aspect of this move, meowing all the way when Richard drove them down in their sherpa carriers a couple weeks back. They've settled in quite nicely now, helped with catnip sprinkled toys and towers, a squeaking mouse on a stick toy our friend Jean Ann Allen gifted us with, and lots of affection. We're all domiciling quite nicely, thank you very much. It's good to experience their particular art in grounding me, snuggled up warmth on my lap urging me to sit a while, slow down, take the time. Okay. Okay.
So here's to January, nearly gone now. The beginning month. A time of resolutions, really a sort of framing of the year. The question "What would I like to have happened a year from now?" spurs me on. It's fun this year, not a burden as in the past. A big fat spaghetti throw to the creative wall. Blank slate. Hoorah! Let's see. I wish you all your own eventful inaugurations and adventures and faithful leaps. Enjoy!
