Last Minute

Revise the plans, but that's fairly common. Supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow and I pick up the rental car late tomorrow. Logistics. I pack what I need, take everything into the museum, do some last minute shopping, go to the library for a couple of books on tape, take everything to the museum. I'll walk down tomorrow, with the computer main-frame, hand it over to James; pick up the rental tomorrow afternoon, park at the bottom of the hill again, walk down early Wednesday, and away. I got some energy drinks and vitamin water, taking a small cooler, some trail mix and fruit. I look forward to getting west of Iowa City, where the farm country is so well maintained, so beautiful in it's contour. And I'll see the ground now, not the top of the corn. I'll watch some old movies on television in motel rooms in strange towns. An adventure. A foray into the outside world. My "Clarel" is a trip through Denver. It's really hitting me now, I'm leaving. I've made what preparations I could, and then I go away. I got a self-feeder for the dog, and Ronnie agreed to come up a couple of times, refill the feeder, shut the door if I'd been robbed. About the best I can do. The clerestory repair is beyond my expectations. I marvel at the timing, my books are safe. My two concerns were the books and the dog. I have this under control, Major Tom. I should probably stop here, on a positive note. But all this other shit intervenes. If' it's it, a consolation, I never saw it coming. Mostly what you get is garbage, interference. Could those really small flowers mean something? I'll go out on a limb and say maybe. I have to go. I love you nonetheless.

Tom

Got home safely, a satchel of field notes, not a single scratch. Stopped at the museum and got my mainframe, stopped at Kroger and got something to eat (an avocado, a small steak), beat it to the ridge. The above paragraph was saved as Mail Waiting To Be Sent, so I thought I'd include it, as a starting point, I don't remember writing it. Must have written it just before shutting down. Don't remember shutting down and disconnecting. That last day of work, the 11th, James said my computer was a dinosaur. I had pre-loaded the rental and it was waiting at the bottom of the hill, got up, made 16 ounces of serious coffee, strolled down with the dog, and drove to Des Moines. Wanted to stop in Iowa City and visit Stephanie, but I was on a roll. This trip was about my girls, not about me, and our memories of it will certainly be different. I needed a tree-tip pit, a retreat, so I rented a motel room for a week, Samara and her roommates had contracted bedbugs, and I didn't want those, needed a place to go. The weather is an issue, golf-ball hail, a tornado touching down, I choose a Motel 6 in the middle of nowhere. Bring whatever to bear. What I remember is only a shadow, but if you read that closely, you realize we're on the same page..

Tom

I have unpacked issues,
they amount to nothing,
just what I thought.