"Where or when" ... that's the title of an old song..
It went,
"It seems we stood and talked like this before...
"We smiled at each other in the same way then,
"But I can't remember where or when..."
Very lovely, romantic ballad... the kind they played at high school proms, toward the end of the night... she'd snuggle her head into the turn of his neck, the embrace would tighten a little, heartsbeats would be palpable, and there would be a warm human electricity in the moment....
Well, that's the feeling I still get from a foreign encounter, human or simply atmospheric. Take me to some distant shore, where dreams run wild and fluid and exotic, and I am again in the arms of that end-of-prom emotion.
Where and when?
Where to go and when to go there; they are always the questions that stare me down as vacation time starts to come into focus.
So tell me, if you are out there and entering this little portal of inquiry: Where are you going this year? Any good suggestions for a woman (and her pink suitcase) with wanderlust? I would love to hear some ideas.
The when...... hmmmmm....... I could be ready in five minutes.....

Last weekend I was in New York State, passing through Tuxedo, and Warwick, and Florida... and it was a few days filled with:

• Great food (Conch fritters; a Cape May Casserole.... shrimp and crab meat and rice and cheese and every ounce delicious, made by a true bon vivant who generously poured unusual wines from California vineyards oddly named for Fess Parker (!) or Raymond....
• Fascinating conversation about a planet in change, politics du jour, the need for more books and less TV, the evolving role of the world press and (bruuuuuuuuummmm, insert small drum roll here....) the value of travel in shaping our world view.
• The celebration of a life well-lived by a female pioneer journalist who regularly crams more goodwill into one weekend than some people fit into a lifetime.

No matter that I had serious life-altering problems crouching in the back of my mind and jumping to the foreground when I let my guard down, or that a distant snow storm was threatening, or that ice was spitting at me from the sky on the ride home.... I was in my own "New York State of Mind" as the Interstate miles clicked by. And that "State" encompassed energy, possibility, celebration, expanding thoughts, intensity tempered with laughter, reality checks cancelled out by the hopefulness of optimism, exhaustion ultimately giving way to renewal.

Back in the Philly 'burbs, I'm struggling to find the inner joy and peace that seemed to waltz all through last weekend. It's slow in tempo right now, but it IS returning... It's coming in the form of family (a special birthday was celebrated today), friends (one said in a note to friends, "Yippee, Val said she'd come dancing with us Saturday night..." and that made me feel so incredibly appreciated as the sometimes "screwy girl" that I often can be) and in the recognition that soon an overload of work will withdraw and I'll have just enough money squirreled away to set a course for some distant shore for a week or two. My melancholy lifts at the very thought....

And truly, despite a heavy heart that beats within me, this is a time to dance...

Hey, guess what! I'm packing my pink luggage full of more-than-I-need wardrobe items (....taking an electric blue bustier with shocking pink satin laces down the front. Fear not, I never ever wore it, but I like to cart it around in case I'm in a traffic accident and the contents of my luggage get sprawled all over the Interstate. Makes for some advanced rubber necking opportunities for passing motorists...) for a mid-February weekend in the great state of New York.

Yep, this is it! The inaugural outing of the actual pink suitcase, (trust me, she will eventually be given a proper name... any suggestions?) and a ceremonial christening with a bashing (OK, maybe just a splashing) of pink champagne before the departure.

I plan to take pictures. I wonder if she has learned to smile........