Home

I'm home. Oh, I'm home, I'm home, I'm home. In a weird, eerie twist, there is enough snow here for my parents to have been trapped in the hospital overnight, and to have spent four hours on the road to come and get me from the airport; and no snow at all in Ithaca or NYC! It's colder here than it's been in decades and feels rather a lot like Ithaca in that respect. It's more beautiful, though; mostly untouched, and storybook pretty.

I stayed up all night; I got a bus at six down to New York City, I had delicious brunch with macadamanaity, who cheered me up thoroughly; and then I got a bus out to JFK, and all that time a kindly god was smiling on me; Manchester was the only large British airport not closed for snow, and my plane landed half an hour early on a swept runway. I tracked the landscape through a clear sky during the descent and saw Anglesey, North Wales, Wirral, and Formby under a great coat of white. It really is eerie.

But... I am home safe. I made it. I really did. I made it to the exam, incompetence notwithstanding, and packed up everything in my apartment, and I made it. And I wrote 2300 words of yuletide on the plane! So now.... sleep.