magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Today, I am exactly the same age that my dad was on the day that I was born: 29 yeas, 6 months, 4 days.

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The other day, on the train out of the city, George called, and while we didn't make any specific plans, there was an intent to get together at some point this weekend. I've called and left a few messages, but haven't heard anything back.

I was kind of hoping that he might want to make a trip into the city this afternoon, so that I could return with a few more things than I could reasonably carry on the train. And while that didn't happen, Ellen called, asked what my plans were, and offered to make a detour on her way back from New Hampshire. It would be a bit out of her way, but it would mean that she didn't have to drive after dark and in the snow by herself. 'That would be nice,' I said.

My directions, half-remembered from all those trips that I used to make to and from Amherst, proved sufficient, and she found her way to my mom's house, came in for a few minutes, and then we were off, back to New York in the snow.