Train spotting

And there is the headlight, shining far down the track, glinting off the steel rails that, like all parallel lines, will meet in infinity, which is after all where this train is going. ~Bruce Catton

. . .

We loved our train adventure, Sam and I. There were bountiful hours for reading and playing games and talking and country gazing. We didn't care what time it was, ever. The train stations were (and are) astonishingly beautiful. And I loved the gentle rocking of the chugchug at night, the melancholy whistle, the dining car, the efficient space solutions of the sleeping car, and the quick friendliness with fellow travelers. Mostly it felt like a blessing to be in the moment and really notice the acres of our country.

And to be there with Sam on that cusp between childhood and manhood. I remember a moment, catching sight of Sam's profile looking out the big window, with the light of the sunset spilling over the changing architecture of his face. The gratitude for him (and, yes, melancholy!) took my breath away. It wasn't all sunsets and coziness, though. At one point as I was chirping away he looked at me and said, with clenched teeth, "Mom, I don't want to TALK right now."

At the end as we pulled into LA's Union Station Sam said "Is it already over? I could keep going!"

I know the feeling.

Still, when we flew home last week--whizzing over the country we had witnessed, mile by mile, hour by hour-- we landed and he looked at me and said "are we already there? That was fast!"

....

Listen: Train Song ~ Feist & Ben Gibbard

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Questions about the train trip? Email me (basic dot annie at gmail dot com) or comment here and I'll include answers in an upcoming train tutorial post.

All aboard!

We're doing it.

We're boarding the Lakeshore Limited in Boston on Monday, arriving the next morning for a day in Chicago, then traveling on the Southwest Chief to LA, arriving Thursday morning.  I haven't figured out yet whether I am certifiably INSANE to do this (we'll know soon enough!) but I'm also not sure when we'll ever again have a span of days like this, a reason to do it, and Sam's enthusiasm for this kind of trip with his mom. So we're going for it.  At the very least, we'll have some good stories and Sam will remember riding the train across the country with his mom when he was 11.

It did give me pause, I'll admit, when we were in the orthodontist's office for an hour and a half on Monday and the wait just about undid us. We were rolling our eyes and practically moaning--when will we be done? there's nothing to do--and we even had books with us! Joke's on us, I guess!! Next week that little hour and half will seem like an appetizer--no, a bite of an appetizer--compared to the 65 hours on the train.  Hopefully it doesn't end up being our own personal Throw Momma from a Train situation.

So here's my confession: I'm completely romanticizing this adventure.  And I'm okay with that. I have this vision of the Orient Express (minus the murdering) and quality time with Sam.  Maybe I'll begin a novel, a la J.K. Rowling's train scribblings that launched Harry Potter!  Maybe Sam can make a movie! And I'll come up with new insights about life! Plus I'll finish my pre-dissertation work and...and...we can do speeches at every stop to crowds of waiting blog readers, patriotic bunting behind us! I know these are fanciful--I do know--but it's been part of the fun of the planning and anticipation.  

p.s. Do you think it's going overboard to ask G to come and run alongside the departing train with tears in his eyes? With maybe a 1940s suit and a fedora? I have my handkerchief all ready for waving farewell.

In press

We were surprised to find that Lauren showed up in The New Era (our church's worldwide youth magazine) this month in the feature they did on the pioneer trek we did last year in our area.  It was fun to relive some of the memories + to have such a nice moment with her friend Ian captured in print.

Lauren is in the yellow bonnet, pulling the handcart

And then, in a freaky coincidence, we found that Sam was in the Friend (the children's magazine) for this same month for a little service project he and the other children did last year at the Old North Bridge.

Sam's in the red shirt on the bridge

You'd think we hired agents or something! Two children featured, three children in our family. Hmmm. Way to mess with our slippery + tentative balance of sibling equity, church magazines! (Luckily, Miss M didn't have a Marcia, Marcia, Marcia moment at all.) 

Dreaming of locomotives

If someone doesn't talk me out of it quickly, I think I just might book a train journey for this summer. Sam and I are going to California for my cousin's wedding in July (G has to work, the girls have camp, then afterwards we'll all meet in Utah for a family reunion) and my latest brightshinydistraction is the thought of taking the train across the country from Boston to LA.  Brilliant or delusional? I can't tell. 

We are leaving today for Utah to visit family and tour colleges over spring break.  Maybe as I fly over all of those cornfields and mountains, I'll rethink a three-day trip ch-ch-chugging all those miles.  But right now, I'm in love with the idea.

Beg to differ

Lauren was unloading the dishwasher and noticed it had done a less-than-stellar job getting all those pesky food bits off of the plates.

Sam: I ALWAYS rinse my plate all the way off before I put it in.

Me: Hmm.  Sometimes I do but sometimes I don't. It seems like the dishwasher should be able to handle a little food, though.

Sam: I always do.  I guess my standards of cleanliness are just higher than most people.

{widespread bursting of laughter throughout the kitchen}

Ring-ring!  Hello? Oh, Sam! It's your room. It's calling to BEG TO DIFFER on the standards of cleanliness.

But thank you for the laugh.