Family

Hard to believe I was in New Orleans two weeks ago.

I was there for the Education Writers Association conference and stayed a few days to hang out with my family and enjoy the city.

On Thursday morning, my first in the city, I woke up and ran a sweaty three miles along the neutral ground (median) to Audubon Park. I’ve run a handful of times since February, but this was the first run that felt good, natural. It had nothing to do with the heat and humidity — I could have done without that.

I snacked on fruit and read the newspaper in the kitchen while chatting with my aunt. The scene could have happened two years ago. Again, natural.

Other now-foreign experiences that felt “natural:” walking to get coffee at Rue de La Course, riding shotgun through narrow streets, iced pecan praline coffee from PJ’s, heading straight to the right aisle in my old grocery store, listening to Kermit Ruffins and eating gumbo in the sun, dining al fresco on Magazine with an old friend.

When recapping my short trip to NOLA, a friend pointed out the obvious: Going to New Orleans is like going home.

I don’t have to do touristy things or see the sights — I’m happiest just stretching on my aunt and uncle’s porch, breathing in the jasmine and morning humidity. Or drinking Abita and eating cheese fries (2 nights in a row) at my favorite hangout. Or laughing with my cousins in my aunt’s kitchen.

I came home with strong coffee, sunburn and a full heart. I can always go home. And when I can’t, I can brew some strong coffee and think of it.

Most would say my Valentine’s Day sucked:
- my valentine was 1,000 miles away
- I spent most of the day with the school board
- in between shifts, I went to a matinee of the Natalie Portman/Ashton Kutcher rom-com. So did one other guy, which made laughing a bit awkward.
- I came home to half of the young couple above me standing outside with her parents and two police officers. I don’t know what happened to cause the situation, but the husband locked the wife outside and refused to open the door, even for the cops.

Lovely. After that, I was more than happy to sit in a school board meeting for 3+ hours.

Then again, every day last week gave me something to love.

Tuesday: Firemen were called to break out the husband. He had rigged some wires in between the front door and the door up the stairs. They didn’t pay their rent, so they had until Friday to move out. And now they’re gone and I don’t have to hear their baby crying at odd hours of the night. I love sleep.

Wednesday: Reporting road trip! I traveled down to Elk Mountain, a tiny town off I-80 in between Rawlins and Laramie, for two stories: one for business and a food story for the Live Well Wyoming magazine we publish quarterly. A photographer, videographer and I were treated to the best meal I’ve had in Wyoming: venison wellington, duck, salmon, samosas, hummus and white chocolate bread pudding. I love food. And getting out of the office.

At the Elk Mountain Hotel, suited up for chopping duty. [Feb. 16, 2011]

Thursday: My friend Cat bought tickets to visit Wyoming for my birthday in a few weeks. She’ll be my 11th visitor! I think a snowshoeing trip in the Wind River Mountains is in order… I love Cat.

Friday: I finished writing the mainbar and editing three national stories for a package about federal education stimulus funding. I had forgotten how much fun editing others’ work can be. I love what I do.

And I received my last v-day card from my first valentine, my mom, whom I obviously love.

If the point of Valentine’s Day is to send red cards and eat chocolate and tell people “I love you,” mission accomplished. If it’s to experience joy and feel loved, mission accomplished.

All the Rosie O’Donnell fans out there will get the reference. The rest of you — don’t worry about it. Worst. Movie. Ever.

I did ride the lift with my sister several times last weekend on a last-minute trip to Keystone. I met Sam in Fort Collins, we picked up our parents from the airport and drove west to the mountains. I can’t remember the last time more than three of us have skiied together — 10 years?

The plan: Ski as much as possible before Sunday night. We did alright. Night skiing on Friday, skiing from open to 2 on Saturday and from open to noon on Sunday.

I brought my board for Friday night. And I did good! Driving up to Hogadon on weekend mornings has paid off. But runs in Colorado are at least three times as long as the runs in Casper. I started to fall more toward the end as I got more and more tired.

The switch to skis felt natural, like swapping stilettos for broken-in running shoes. The snow became icy in a few spots, which was much more manageable on skis.

I’m glad I made the 5-hour trip. I didn’t get to see family during Christmas and don’t know when I’ll see them again.

1-1-11 is close enough to the new year, right?

I don’t make resolutions.

I do reflect on the previous year, a tradition that dates back to my “Dear diary” years in elementary school. Sometimes it’s a survey, sometimes it’s a month-by-month recap.

This year, I took the succinct route. I chose one word for each month in 2010, words that remind mark points where something shifted, changed, grew.

In no particular order: Snow, love, friendship, home, marathoning, rodeo, peace, impatience, breathe, scoop, refresh, recharge.

And one word for 2011: Purpose.

I do a lot of things, and a lot of things well, but how often do I do them with a specific purpose in mind? At work, I force myself to identify the main “mission” of the story, what it might accomplish and how it fits in broader context before I write.

I rarely do this in other parts of my life. Usually, I’m already doing something before I think about why I’m doing it or how the outcome might benefit anything.

So I’m going to pause more often to act with purpose. Pausing is not something I do well, so it will take some work.

Gratitude — I try to recognize it each day as it happens.

Things I’ve been thankful for recently:

• The woman above me chooses to leave on her heat  — which heats 2/3 of my apartment — while we are both gone.
• Last week’s winter storm disintegrating before reaching Casper, so I could drive to Colorado and fly home for Thanksgiving.
• Parents who drive to the airport late at night (midnight) and early in the morning (3 a.m.).
• A strong, healthy  body to run 3 miles through the woods and mud.
• Laughter, especially about things that don’t matter.
• Enough weekend to share with family, friends and  several hometown restaurants.
• Friends who offer to babysit me while I test Four Loko.
• My sister drove from Illinois to Colorado so she could be my Trader Joes mule and haul back almond butter and wine I couldn’t take on the plane.
• A cozy bed in Fort Collins to nap for a few hours before heading back to Wyoming.
• A Saturday shift so I didn’t have to go to work on Monday with only a couple hours of sleep.
• Two business days this week to get my bills/life in order.

Cleaning the carcass with my uncle in my mom’s kitchen, home of many thankful moments.

Tomorrow it’s back to work — another thing for which I’m constantly grateful.