J and I got here by driving and flying--not exactly how we had planned to reach Washington (see Mark Twain quote), but all that is in the past. 2007, I have concluded, was our very own annus horribilis (no, it has nothing to do with hemorrhages). We are both here now. And if I can muster the energy to get my ass out of the hotel before it gets dark, I might actually be able to start getting to know this new place that, for all intents and purposes, is my new home. Quickbeam was left behind in NY, which breaks our hearts. But we hope to earn enough--and soon enough--that we can go back and get her ready to be trucked across.I sat in row 35 on the flight from NY. It was great for boarding, but not for disembarking. We could have twiddled our thumbs a good long while. The man sitting in the aisle seat (I had the window) turned to me and asked if I was visiting Seattle. I said I was moving to Seattle. He himself grew up in NY's Chinatown, when it was still south of Canal Street, before it crept its way into what little is left of Little Italy. He moved to Seattle over 20 years ago. He had just come back from NY, where he visited his brother, who is about to be shipped off to Iraq.
