Going home

Have you seen the movie Junebug? It is a really excellent independent movie from last year. I re-watched it tonight (breaking my new habit of returning Netflix movies with neck-breaking speed). The movie took me home again briefly, even though it takes place in South Carolina and I grew up in the Chicago farmland. The common elements I find in this movie include a cowed and quiet father puttering away at his bench in the basement when he isn't taking in everything there is to know about those around him, a mother who sews, singing old hymns at church, that experience of knowing everyone at church from way back, and the adult returning home who crashes in for a deep sleep and steals away to reflect, rather than being tossed into the fray of everyone immediately.

I was going to spend the weekend at home the farmland, immersed in seeing relatives for whom visits are long overdue. But when I decided to go to Austin last weekend, I gave up the long trip home because I felt too guilty spending the money and taking the time away from my dogs. I wasn't going to go at all, but some insane streak in me drove me to plan a 24-hour trip when I saw a crazy cheap air fare for such a short time there and realized I could just stay in the city without renting a car . . . I couldn't bear not to see the major league debut of the young Cubs pitcher Sean Marshall, throwing against the hated Chris Carpenter of the St. Louis Cardinals.

So, there I will be. Hoping that nothing happens before I can get home for a real visit.