Wired, tired, and giddy, that’s me. Tomorrow morning we head for the airport, take two planes to get to Milan, then two more trains to get to Pontassieve, where we will be met by Jo and Fra and a car full of groceries. Then about twenty minutes of steep twisty back-country roads to get home to the Mill House, where wine and supper will follow shortly. Sleep, then five whole days of yakking and hugging and laughing and walking and basking in silent presence. And enjoying the feeling of walking barefoot on the 14th-century stone floor in the beautiful little home that has been theirs since February of 2012.
Then a return home for CB, solo, while I go on to France. I will carry my magic tokens to Carnac, find the ancient stone cross and the wee hole at its base where, years ago, I placed a wish-token from my Swiss friend Erica. She needed help getting money to publish a coffee-table book showing the decades of theatre work she had created. First with Zbigniew Stok, and after his death, with Peter Doppelfeld. Now Erica is Beyond, but her little token is still under the cross. (It worked. The book was beautiful.)
Now I’m bringing a token from Camilla, our long-time theatre partner in Lancaster PA. I took a mad trip to upstate New York to visit with her while that was still possible, and I asked her if she’d like to give me something to put under that cross with Erica. Yes. I have it in my suitcase, along with one from Flora Coker (friend/colleague since 1966, and still living and working in Milwaukee.) And I have one for me.
Four gorgeous strong women, two with feet in the Hereafter, two still plugging along in the Now. Collectively we have created and performed decades of stories, brought to life memorable characters. I find great joy in the idea that we will always be snuggled together, a different Fab Four, riding the energy of the ley-lines at Carnac. If you want us, you know where to find us.