I've come to the conclusion that the more you have to talk/blog about, the less you can actually do it. I'm dying to process my Alaska trip in photos, journals and most importantly, paint (Oh yes, I remember paint), but it's been a crazy trip since I arrived back at Logan Airport at 10am Sunday morning after a 13 hour overnight flight, with 2 running for the gate plane changes.
Before I left for Alaska my 81 year old dad had spent his first ever few days in the hospital with a rapid heartbeat. He did not take to it well and left with medication to regulate his heart but much weaker than when he went in. I was ready to cancel my trip, but he seemed to be recovering gradually at home and all seemed under control.
So I went, and it was incredible. I will post about it soon I hope.
I got back on Sunday, tried to catch up on sleep, booted up my computer to check my email. Watched it sputter and die. Then right back to work Monday morning, with a coworker on vacation so an unusually heavy workload. Lunch was at the Apple genius bar sending my laptop in for repair. After work I headed to my folks and found my dad ok, but thinner and weaker than when I left, on Hospice care and determined to refuse any more tests or hospitalizations. And so the week was a blur of working and visiting the folks, helping put my dad to bed, calling siblings and doctors. I barely unpacked, so was looking forward to the weekend which I though would give me time to breath.
Say what you will about her, it's nice that she decided to arrive on Sunday, to give me Saturday to batten down the hatches. My husband was working so couldn't help with hurricane prep on Saturday, but I was actually looking forward to puttering around my house for a full day at home, which I haven't had for 3 weeks. But an early morning call Saturday had me ready to grab my keys and head back to my folks. My mom was panicking about my dad and I told her I'd be there and that the hurricane was just going to have to wait. Luckily though, the situation was resolved and thanks to my sister I didn't have to go this time.
Now I have to make the decision whether to leave again in two weeks for my residency in the Petrified National Forest. I guess time will tell.
So the studio has been dark and silent, and now filled with lawn furniture and trash barrels and anything else from the yard that could become a projectile in a hurricane.
Oh, for the days when sleeping on the rainy rocky coast, paddling 5 miles, lugging gear and lifting my kayak to the roof a boat was the hardest thing I had to do. Let's hope Hurricane Irene blows some better winds my way!