I miss being up early to write. I haven’t gotten up before six in over a month, and today still not before six but at least at six. There are a few essays underway that I could be working on, but today on my first day back to the early hour, instead want to type while watching the sky turn pink and rose. Such a difference between out there and in here. Out there, the light is starting to fill the neighborhood. In here, the house is still dark and quiet, just the sound of my fingers on the keyboard and the water filling the washing machine. (I don’t want to digress to a household chore list, but –

oh that suddenly reminds me that I dreamt about my sister last night. She had just checked off two movies from her must-see list, said she was so glad I’d convinced her a list was the way to go, though it only kept growing, even when she checked off titles.

A few days ago, KOUDELKA arrived for a work project. His photos of the Soviet invasion of Prague are just astonishing, as are his photos of European gypsies. I don’t know yet what I’m going to say, which means to write, but I think it leans more toward his photos of gypsies and Milosz’s introductions to Exiles, the book in which so many of their images were in to begin with. Too little is written about his work, at least academically in the States. I’ve drafted a letter too long and rambling, Dear Mr. Koudelka … and need to refine it and actually send it. I’ve been on a letter-writing mission lately, mostly writing letters of support for a project, but it seems the natural time to refine Mr. Koudelka’s letter and ship it off to him. It’s my only chance of him writing back.

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Katie’s hosting. Here’s the line-up in the kitchen:

Butternut squash soup
Crabmeat stuffed avocado salad
Oyster and apple cornbread dressing
Shrimp and merliton stuffing
Breads: cranberry orange, garden herb, Dakota wheat (from the bakery)
Homemade sauces of apple and cranberry 
Apple-glazed turkey
Pumpkin pie by Sophie and Audrey
Chocolate chip cookies by Sophie and Audrey
Chocolate pie by Mary
Chianti

And for this Thanksgiving, I repeat a poem that’s found its way to my blog before. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Gratitude

Do not think I am not grateful for you small kindness to me.
I like small kindnesses.
In fact I prefer them to the more
substantial kindness, that is always eyeing you
like a large animal on a rug,
until your whole life reduces
to nothing but waking up morning after morning
cramped, and the bright sun shining on its tusks.

- Louise Gluck

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This is stan sloans lights black used to load stan sloans lights black s on PDA phones such as the Kyocera 6035 and the Handspring Treo.

Seems I’ve been flying under the radar lately, but mostly only as a result of not having enough time to get into my personal email adequately or to blog with any regularity. I think about blogging sometimes, and think about the composition of a few emails owed to friends in distant cities, but thinking, of course, is not writing. (Yet.)

Just as I was about to finally enter this first blog entry since Atlanta, Ross gave a call to ask where I was and how I was doing, and that was a nice surprise, a call from R.W. on my way out of D.C. I’ve been at the airport long enough to go through security twice (the first time Laura and I got through, we looked at our boarding passes and thought we’d come through the wrong checkpoint — turned out we had not, but still had to wait in a long security line again — not too much of an issue since we arrived nearly five hours early). And it was great to settle into a chair to begin writing only to be interrupted by a phone call from R.W.

The trip to D.C. was overwhelmingly successful, although the last two days rather difficult because I’ve been sick. Two pieces of exciting news — I was appointed co-chair of the Marketing and Public Relations Council for the Association of Schools of Public Health and also had the extraordinary opportunity for a meeting with *the* Archivist for the U.S. National Archives, the director of musuem programs, the director of exhibits, and the senior curator. Dr. Weinstein’s office felt regally appropriate for the home of the Consitution and Declaration of Independence, and it was a real treat to have the opportunity to meet with him, discuss an exhibit, and get a wonderful behind-the-scenes tour. I don’t think I felt the real surge of excitement about the opportunity until about two hours after the meeting, when I thought, Wow, that actually just happened! And thus finally did the happy-Katie dance.

And the third piece of exciting news is that I think I am within inches of having plans solidified for a project in Ethiopia, Rwanda, South Africa, and Haiti. This too will probably not seem real until two hours until after it’s finished. Maybe two weeks. Months. Years. Decades. But so much time has already gone into it with it looming as a mere possibility, but now I see the sign that it’s becoming real. (*becoming real*?)

Oh, the sun is going down and the lights from the Capitol are sparkling across the Potomoc. A good trip, but I am so ready to get home. Two sweet little girls, a friend waiting at the airport, and plenty of time at home. Plus, a fun weekend ahead for pre-wedding festivities for a wedding I’m standing in next month.

P.S. And, hey, I even started one new poem in D.C.!