It is 5:30 AM, the sky a dark blanket tossed upon the city, and I am hurtling via the regional rail towards the airport. Towards home.
I was awake by three, seized by the fear of waking up at nine, blissfully rested but with my flight above Texas and without me. I flitted about packing and passed the remaining time making breakfast.
Sunny side up eggs flecked with Parmesan slivers and drizzled with white truffle oil; warmed pancetta and sun dried tomato toast on the side. I’ve never bought a wedge of Parmesan before but this one is robust, almost meaty in its flavor. ‘Twas delicious. As for pancetta, I deem it glorified ham. It is good..but nothing more.
Can I say how excited I am to enter the welcoming arms of my home state? It sounds sacrilegious to call Texas home after being born and bred in Louisiana. (Yes, they are neighboring states but decidedly different.) Louisiana gave me excellent grammar and a propensity to use Tabasco like people use salt but Texas raised me. It harbored me through teen angst, watched over my college years, accepted me in my fumbling post-grad years. Its men open doors, its food comforts. And, of course, my family, friends and darling other half is there.
See you in a few hours, y’all.