I am working on catching up on my correspondence. Well, perhaps that verb should not be in the present tense... I will work on it some more tomorrow. I had forgotten how soothing a balm writing a note to someone can be. Not only is it somehow beautiful and natural for words to flow from the mind, through the arm to the hand and translated onto paper that sucks up the ink of a pen like a mind absorbs thoughts and ideas, but writing is so much more like talking than is typing. And, let's face it, who doesn't like to recieve a note in the real mail. It's a beautiful, romantic, meaningful thing to recieve something not a bill or junk in the mail. I am doing my part to make the world and the lives of my friends more beautiful.
Picking Meredith up went off with little trouble besides her plane's delay. She didn't die and neither did we on the drive back home to Ames. I am SO glad she is back in town.
I have realized something in the past two weeks: Ames is starting to become home, especially when Meredith and Catie are here. I will find my place in this town yet.
And a new anxiety is rippling just 'neath the surface: What about when Meredith goes back to the east coast over summer break this year? I will miss her, that is for certain.