That's right. Less than 24 hours before I was set to return back to Portland the call came in that my connecting flight through Newark, NJ and their 20+ inches of snow was no longer happening. I had been rescheduled for Saturday evening - New Year's Day. I was supposed to have already returned to Portland by New Year's Eve where I would be attending a Pink Martini concert with Jon, Heather, and some other cool cats. Those plans were now shot. There wasn't anything lined up with hometown area friends so I made the most logical choice there was: Go to Pennsylvania.
More specifically, I went to Camp Swatara for the yearly staff reunion and a small New Year's gathering. Swatara is a bit of a second home for me, similar to Jon's Myrtlewood probably. There were plenty of friends to see that I wasn't expecting to cross paths with for some time to come - a farm manager, a very faithful blog-following seminarian, a morbidly devout Redskins fan, a wanderlust traveler, a piano-playing program coordinator, a soon-to-be-graduated soprano, an India-bound spirit, and many others. Once again, I don't know when then next time is that I'll see any of them. I guess time holds those cards for now.
Yet another bump in the road has turned out well for me. It would be nice if I could go into all situations knowing that somehow, no matter the outcome, I'll be alright in the end. It's probably true. Maybe I enjoy the worrying and anxiety. Ugh. Now I'm back on the bumpy journey that is this community house, resettling in as a returned to space for the first time. As I think about what's to come in the weeks and months ahead I find myself thinking, "Gee, it sure would be nice to know what's coming up next." Then again, it's good to have the canceled flights that keep us guessing just a little and lead us on unexpected adventures. I'm just hoping that the next adventure doesn't also try to take me through New Jersey.
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