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I'll Be Home For Christmas

2020 wreaked a lot of havoc, including separating me from the City that I love. My first trip to NYC was in April of 2003, and despite a hearty dose of initial country-girl shock, I’ve returned at least once per year ever since. If my count is correct, trains, planes, and automobiles have taken me into New York City 38 different times in the last 17 years. I really miss it now.


A trip that had been planned for April was pushed (with great optimism) to September before almost immediately being kicked out to November, leaving hope dangling by a tattered and bedraggled string. Eventually, the flights were cancelled and the long-suffering box office workers on Broadway gave up after the third rescheduling and issued the saddest refund ever received.


At least one other destined trip never even made it onto the calendar – my annual pilgrimage to the glitz and glamour of New York at the holidays. It would have been my 10th straight year.