And so it begins!

Though published later, this post was written at 6:30am.

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So we’re on our way! Jeff and I have started on our adventure to the great muddy wonderland of the UK. We’re going via New York, ostensibly in order to make sure that we have our wits about us when we catch our flight at butts o’clock in the morning, but in actuality we’re visiting friends and the Burton exhibit at the MoMa.

Right now we’re on our way up to NYC on our Amtrak train, and the first leg of the journey has gone without a hitch. It’s early, though, and I’m drinking a particularly goodish cup of coffee from DD. Oh, and it snowed last night. I think it’s still snowing now, but we’re traveling at such a speed that the only thing I can see outside is rushing trees and flowing landscapes. The snow is blue, almost a turquoise in the very early morning light. Passing by a snowy field is a fleeting glimpse at an artist’s dream, the suggestion of life without the presence of it.

I’m rambling, but again, it’s very early.

In our original plans we were going to head up to NYC on Thursday, spend the night with our friend Christina, see New York, spend the night again, and then Christina (who is a complete doll, by the way) was going to drive us to the airport. And most of that is going to happen still; we just got a later start than we thought due to my father’s service.

It was a lovely service. One of his sons and his sister spoke, as well as business partners, friends, and friends so close as to be family. They spoke about sides of my father I never knew, but wish I had. He was old before I was born, and simply continued to get older the longer I knew him.

And my mom met Jeff’s parents for the first time at the service. Strange? Perhaps. But I met Jeff’s parents for the first time when they were sitting Shiva, so it seems only fair, I guess. And they really like each other. Jeff’s father, Steve, is a lot like my own father (also Steve) in more ways than I can mention, and I wish they’d met when my father was in his prime. I think they really would have gotten along and been, if not great pals, then great acquaintances. They say that women look for their fathers in the men they date, but I think I’m far luckier to see my father in the father of the man I love. Much simpler that way.

But yes, we’re on our way to our next great adventure and I’m so excited I can barely stand it. It doesn’t quite seem real, after all our planning and talking about it. I remember telling Sandra, one of my closest friends in Scotland, that it’d only be 2 months, 6 weeks, one month, two weeks, next week… tomorrow! And now it’s time.

Jeff’s asleep on my shoulder, my cue to stop typing and let him rest. More later, of course.