My flight home is delayed an hour and fifteen minutes. Ah well, at least I don’t have a connection to make. Although I do have an appearance at 4 p.m. at Borders in Timonium.

This is the end of the first leg. Overall, it was very good, but I am primarily grateful for the serendipity that dropped me in Fort Lauderdale with enough free time to attend the wake/celebration for Barbara Parker.

I met Barbara only a few times, but she was a delight. I also know she was particularly good to another friend during tough times.

A tour can become a solipsistic tunnel — all that hurtling through airports, trying to keep on schedule, trying to find time to eat. This one, however, was filled with friends and family. Winston-Salem, in fact, was the only city where I didn’t manage to see old friends. And, as it happens, an old high school classmate surfaced there; she had played Joan of Arc in The Lark, and I had played her mother.

At any rate, it seemed important to make it to the party in Barbara’s memory. “What else was I going to do with these hours, throw myself on the bed in the hotel and flip through the channels?” I asked Oline Cogdill, the critic that everyone loves. (Not because she pulls her punches, but because she’s just so ethical and kind.)

Home in three-ish hours, if I’m lucky. And I get to stay there four whole days!