The busiest part of the summer is fast approaching, and now that the wedding (and our anniversary) is past the momentum is really starting to pick up. I’ve got another day and a half at work and a shopping list as long as my arm, then it’s back on the train down to Cork to meet Elicia and her daughter at the airport. A quick weekend visit, then back up on the train for a week of manic work in which I HAVE to start meeting deadlines before I go on holiday, then I’m on the train again up to Derry to be the Godmother for Elicia’s daughter in her christening ceremony. Back down on the train to Dublin, then two and a half days later I’m on the plane to London. whoosh.

I’m trying to imagine myself landing in Edmonton and walking out of the airport. What will it look like? How will it feel? What will I think? Intellectually I’m prepared for a great disillusionment and emotionally I’m hoping for a great homecoming, and I believe it will be something inbetween. In my dreams I’m flying: swooping through baggage check-in and airport waiting rooms, diveboming through long prairie drives, fluttering about visting friends and family, soaring up and around on a thermal of music and dancing.

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