Last year I arrived in Los Angeles via train after a long sojourn back east. When the Sunset Limited rolled into town at five a.m. a few days before Christmas, I, with my runny nose and high fever, stepped outside feeling pretty dreadful. Yet when I saw the tall palms and glorious angles of Union Station my heart soared — I’m not ashamed to say it, there really is no place like home.
As the sun rose — tucked into my own bed (courtesy of The Mister) with a humidifier percolating gently and a dose of aspirin taken — I fell asleep for about two days. When I woke up it was to a quiet happy holiday.
This year, knock wood, everyone is healthy. Friends and family are gathering, and I am working on a story to read to you on Christmas Day.