So this is the picture of me performing Comes A Time at the sangeet last Friday night. I thought I sucked, but many people complimented me on my performance. The cool thing about Hindu ceremonies is that going barefoot (or sockless) is totally acceptable. And that is alright by me.
So my saga of returning home continues. I am getting closer to Bellingham, and after a canceled flight, I am sitting in the SeaTac airport - probably the nicest airport I've ever been in, and a pleasurable place in which to be stuck - writing this from a Tully's coffee shop. But I am beginning to smell (I packed just enough, but the socks are a bit ripe) and look forward to getting back to my home, sitting in front of the gas fireplace working into the evening and listening to jazz, or just biking around town. I really miss my bikes. And the smiles of the people in Bellingham also beckon.
I was quite depressed and lonely yesterday leaving all the wonderful times and friends on the East Coast. But when I was back in touch with the great people I know back here in Washington, those feelings quickly dissipated. It is always nice when you have something wonderful to return home to. In the choppy seas of my life, my friends, family and acquaintances are the anchorage keeping me safe.
Oh, and by the way, the winds yesterday were reported at 90mph. I have lived in few places where it is not uncommon for shingles to get torn off roofs. Bellingham is one such place. But I look forward to the freshness of the rain-drenched and cloud enshrouded mountains and evergreens. As long as my roof is intact. Now the older garage roof out back is a different story...