September 19, 2013 (5:48 AM PDT/8:48 AM EDT)
I have arrived safely in Seattle and have a while of
pre-dawn quiet to whittle away in my host’s home before I can start making
morning noises. It seems like a good time to catch up my blog, which is
woefully behind.
I have traveled here to meet with Melani, Denise, and
Caitlin: 2 professors (engineering) and 1 graduate student (psychology) who
have been my collaborators on this research project which is occupying my
sabbatical leave. I have been working with Melani for nearly 7 years now, and
she brought the others on board later. Although we attended the same conference
2 years ago, and had brief meetings there, and submitted a grant proposal
together a year ago which involved daily email or skype conversations, this is
our first extended, face-to-face meeting in 3 years. I am hopeful that is will
give my research “juices” the same kind of creative bounce that it did then, so
that I can have a much more productive year working on my own on the east
coast.
I spent Wednesday morning packing, with Helen as my helper.
Jeremy was working from home so I tried to keep both of us out of his hair. At
12:30 we rode our bikes up to the school and picked up the 3 older ones. (They
have an early release every Wednesday.) After 3 weeks of this, I have noticed
that the sidewalks are flooded with kids walking home each Wednesday, which
still catches me by surprise since there are almost no walkers on the other
days. I am curious as to whether this is a warm-weather phenomenon that will
soon end, or a parents-at-work phenomenon that will continue through the school
year. It is nice to see more activity, but it does make riding bikes home a bit
difficult. The sidewalks are really too crowded for the bikes, and I am not
comfortable with the kids on the road. It was Meg’s (her chosen name for this
year) suggestion that we walk on Wednesdays from now on, and I am considering
that seriously.
When we got home, I had a short time to eat lunch with the
kids. James was kind of funny – he wanted to know the exact time I was leaving,
then took off across the street to where his school chums meet every Wednesday
for lunch. He left their party a bit early so he could come say goodbye to me.
He was the one I had been least concerned about leaving for four days, of
course, so I was a bit startled when he asked to walk me over to the train
station. As we waited on the platform, he didn’t say too much, but did mention
several times that he was really nervous about how the next few days would go.
He has always been a pretty independent kid, and far more so since arriving in
MA, so this was unexpected. It was a good parenting reminder to me – both that
he is still 12, and that he holds a
lot inside. He is often stewing on something that he won’t let on about. I
tried to reassure him that even though Jeremy has been out of the day-to-day
parenting loop for a few months, he is more than competent to care for them
all.
Travel was relatively smooth, yesterday. I had a 6:35 PM
direct flight from Boston to Seattle scheduled. To avoid having Jeremy negotiate
the drive through afternoon traffic with all the kids in tow, I elected to take
public transit. Since trains into Boston are a bit sparser in the mid-day, I
caught the 2 PM. (The next choice, at 4 PM, would be cutting things a bit too
close for my comfort.) I really enjoyed the train ride, along and past the
route where Jeremy commutes each day. Although I have driven into Boston many
times with the kids, this was the first time that I saw the trip from his
perspective. I am so used to always knowing what daily work life is like for
him, because I share it, that this has been a strange interlude of sending him
out the door into a strange, unknown sphere. Thus, I found it very comforting
to finally see what he experiences and talks about each evening. The train is
actually quite pleasant (at least in the uncrowded afternoon) – it starts out
through forests and nature preserve areas, then through the inner suburbs, and
finally the views change to the gritty parts of Boston itself. (Not that the
areas are necessarily gritty, but the views from the train tracks are.) I then
had a short walk through North Station to transfer to the T, where the Orange
and Blue lines brought me to Airport Station. Thus, after 1 hour of travel, I
was waiting for the free shuttle bus over to the terminals.
It took another hour to check in and get through security. I
couldn’t believe the line for security. I was very glad that I had elected to
take the earlier train, as I would have been sweating it otherwise. As it was,
I could enjoy people-watching instead. I struck up a conversation with the
young woman behind me in line, who turned out to be a high-school senior at a
Boston-area boarding school. She hailed from Oslo, Norway and her parents had
sent her (and before, her 2 older siblings) to 2 years of U.S. boarding school
to finish their schooling, so that they would supposedly have a better chance
of admission to U.S. colleges. She was on her way to visit two colleges so that
she could decide which to apply to with Early Decision, but as we talked, it
came out that what she really thought she wanted to do was go back to Norway
for school, and she didn’t think her parents would like that. She was also
nervous about her traveling. Obviously air travel was not new to her, but she
said that in the past, her parents would arrange everything, get her to the
airport, and then her school picked her up. This trip, she had to arrange it
all on her own, starting with getting to the airport from her school, and she
was clearly a bit overwhelmed.
When I pulled out my Ziploc bag of liquids for security
inspection, she started a bit and asked where I had gotten it.
“Do you have any
liquids or gels in your carry-on?” I asked her.
“Yes, but where do you get the bags?”
Aha. She knew of the requirement for the bags, but
apparently someone else had always helped her pack before, so she didn’t know
where the bags came from. I gently pointed out that one had to go to a grocery
store and buy them. However, this didn’t seem very helpful as we were already
in the security line. I was so happy to (for once) have my natural hoarding
tendencies pay off. I reached into my suitcase and pulled out a spare for her. (I
had left one in there from my last flight so that I could be sure to find one,
then forgotten and packed a new one for this trip.) The look on her face
indicated that was the best gift I have given anyone in a long time – and the
price was right.
Unfortunately, air travel can never be completely smooth. I
soon learned that my flight was delayed 2 hours. Still, this was not as
devastating as it might have been. Coming from a major airport, I had a direct
flight, for once, so no connections to miss. Also, the reason was crew rest
time, so the delay should be fairly precise and not drag out into the continued
delays and eventual cancellations that have sometimes plagued me in the past.
(Apparently, I should pay more attention to local news. There had been a fire
at the airport the day before, in the refueling area, which delayed a great
number of flights. Thus, the crew on this flight was late the day before, and
was still catching up on mandated rest hours the next day. I am all for a
well-rested crew, so what could I complain about?)
Of course, arriving on the west coast 2 hours later is
unappealing from a jet-lag point of view, but it was manageable. I slept an
hour or two on the plane, and arrived at Melani’s home by midnight (3 AM for
me), but still got another 5 hours of sleep before my own clock nudged me awake
for the day. I think I should be in decent shape for a long, productive day of
work. Speaking of which, the sun is up and I hear Melani starting to move about
the house, so I think that I will get on with that day. Let the work begin!
