Sunday Surprise in Postcards 4

Rail lines into the heart of Chicago from our hotel room, 2011.

Last night Lonely Rivers told me there were internships available on Amtrak. (My friend Katy should apply too.) There certainly is, and I leapt right into it without both feet totally attached. I could fill out the application, I could attach a sample of my writing, and I could even give them my Facebook information. But I didn’t have a required Twitter account. It asked, “What’s your handle?

This man embodied our wonderful experience going cross country on the train.

Oh, what a struggle. Once, long, long ago, I did have a Twitter account, but I never became fluent in Twitter. Last night, it took both G and I an hour to figure out how to sign up. I’m sure kids of all ages can do this easily. Not the two of us. Even this morning I was still struggling through the CNN headlines to the meat of the miles of twitters. The Great Geezer spotted the button to Twitter, not I.

In the middle of beauty was this creation, No, I don’t know what it is.

Blog your journey, the Amtrak Blog suggests. I’ve been doing this as long as I’ve been taking the train, but I’d gladly do it again. So I applied for the internship. Why not. I’m passionate about trains.

• Himself: Bathroom stuff. Installing the new toilet and looking at the leak in the shower.
• Herself: Staying out of his way. Getting dressed up to read the Traditions at the Old Town Speaker’s Meeting that’s held not in Old Town but on top of Mount Soledad.
• Reading: Mr. Churchill’s Secretary by Susan Elia MacNeal. Ok so far, but I just started.
• Balance: Showering even if the leak isn’t fixed yet.