The Scranton Mine Disaster

Here's the thing, I was really really looking forward to meeting the chickens. I was really really excited about going into a coal mine even though I wasn't sure I'd actually be able to do it. I had every intention of meeting with two writing groups and putting forth my pearls of writerly wisdom. But as Robert Burns said:

"But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane [you aren't alone]
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley, [often go awry]
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promised joy."

I never made it. Well not the whole way. I wasn't feeling well when I left to drive to Scranton on Friday and by the time I arrived I was pretty much sick--with a head cold/sinus/snot/sore throat crud thing. My hosts, who I will tell you about a little later. HINT: Think Gotham City, Police Commissioner. Anyhoo, my hosts were so very gracious. I did manage to make the book signing at Northern Lights Espresso Bar. It was fun. That's the mic I sort of read into--unfortunately I sounded like a complete idiot. It was like my brain had been fried. I was, to say the least embarrassed, to say the most, mortified and I swear I will never do it again--but I often say that. The place was awesome. Scranton ROCKS!! I had never been to a First Friday celebration. Every town should do this and celebrate the arts. Every town! But I went back to the Pennsylvania State Police Commissioner's house--that's right, and crashed. The next morning I was supposed to go to see the chickens and do the coal mine tour and meet with to writer's groups but I was just too sick. I had to go home. My dear friends and students Leslee and Cindy were sad and so was I. But I just couldn't do it. So I drove eighty miles an hour all the way home--a two hour drive, I did in in one and a half. I went to bed. Slept until four o'clock, got up. Was starving. Ate whatever I had in the fridge. Went back to bed.

I feel better today. My throat is still a little sore. I still cough off and on but at least I can think again--at least I seem to be thinking. I will get back to Scranton very soon. I promise. I still need to meet the chickens and go into the coal mine and meet the writers. SCRANTON, I SHALL RETURN!