Count down – I leave for the airport in a few hours. Here’s the latest: went to return some library books and saw a greenhouse truck in front of the garden centre on the corner, unloading mountains of tulips, pansies, daffs, hyacinths, croci. It’ll be 21 degrees here in Toronto on the weekend. So I logged on to check out the weather where I going.
It’ll be 1 degree on Wednesday in Paris, with a chance of hail or snow. And the entire six days I’m in London – 95% chance of rain every single day.
Joy! Something to kvetch about! What I live for!
My son visited yesterday to say goodbye, and I see has left me a tender little note. “Hey BUTT HEAD!” it says. It’s these things that make a mother’s heart swell. Neighbour Richard just appeared at the door with a small guidebook to Prague; a Czech friend of a friend has just sent me Prague websites and phone numbers. My bag is full but not overwhelmingly heavy and I’m still trying to take things out. Only three pairs of shoes – comfortable loafers, sturdy walking shoes, sandals. That’s a major accomplishment in itself. All my gear for the plane – stretchy pants, inflatable pillow, earplugs, eye mask, moisture cream, SNACKS, seven “New Yorkers.”
Loving but clear-eyed W’son, with whom I went to Goldie’s event yesterday, commented gently that though I may no longer be very neurotic, I am still slightly neurotic. Let me tell you, the dip from very to slightly is a major accomplishment in itself.
Talk to you soon, from over there in the sleet. Onward.
