So long, farewell
I left home for Islandia Wednesday morning. After too many potty stops and a nasty McD's hamburger, I pulled in to the driveway at around 1:30. Progress from the highway through the neighboring town was slow because it was Amish market day and the market had just closed, so there were lots of buggies on the road. I was greeted by Mom and Dorn, who were still packing. Several of Mom's friends and neighbors had decided to make goodbye visits during the last couple of days she was there, eating up precious preparation time.
Dorn and a friend had driven down to the studio the day before and removed almost all of Dad's artwork, but he made a special walk to the studio to get me Dad's self-portrait from art school and his antique weaving shuttles. (I'm going to mount the shuttles over the door of my office.) We spent the next few hours sorting and packing. Mom had a list of last-minute stuff that helped greatly. Then we took a short rest and decamped for dinner.
For Mom's last evening in the area we went to a restaurant we first visited in 1959 to celebrate my parents' tenth anniversary and my third birthday. (I was born on their anniversary.) The server took our picture to document the occasion. We had a good meal, then went home via Dorn's favorite local soft-serve ice cream place.
At home, it was back to business packing and I had a golden opportunity to slip something into one of Mom's bags when she went to get more clothes. For years Mom has had a wild mouse living in the house who is a cherished member of the family. It was probably born in the house and it's so unafraid of Mom that it will come out of hiding right in front of her, even walking up to her feet. She had mentioned that she would miss the mouse, so I bought a small stuffed mouse and had Lydia write a note to tie around its neck that said, "I would be lonely without you so I stowed away." She'll find it when she unpacks that bag in Alaska.
The next morning we were up and at it again. I found it a bit hard to retain my composure while packing for Mom to move so far away, but I managed. Finally everything was done right at the stroke of three, when Dorn wanted to leave. So I took a last picture of Mom in the front door like we've always seen her, waving hello or goodbye. Dorn loaded their bags and my suitcase into my car and we left with no drama or tears.
When we got to the airport, a storm was gathering and it started to rain. We said our goodbyes and got all our hugs and kisses. I drove off away from the rain, which was blowing away fast. I stopped at a grocery store to buy my dinner and found my hotel. It would have been too creepy and tear-inducing to go back to the house that night. I had the easy evening, eating and reading; Dorn and Mom flew three legs to get to Anchorage and arrived around noon the next day.
In the morning I drove back to the house to pick up a plant and some boxes of stuff I was taking home that didn't fit in the car the day before. Another drive with too many potty stops, one of which included a bit of shopping because I was getting drowsy and needed to do something besides get road hypnosis for half an hour. I stopped to pick up the locking gas cap Karl had asked me to get (there was a siphoning incident at home) and filled the car with gas because we had a hurricane bearing down on us. My next-to-last stop was meeting Karl, Lydia, and Karl's parents to celebrate his dad's birthday. I let the cat out of the bag when I asked the server to take our picture, so dinner ended with a hat and an awful song for Pop. I am so doomed when my birthday comes around! Then a stop at the supermarket for some storm supplies, where the wait to check out took longer than the shopping. Finally I settled in at home.
Yesterday we got everything that could blow away into the garage or the old entertainment unit on the porch that we use for storage. The storm hit around six, and we lost power at nine. Our trusty generator kicked in, so we have power for the servers, the freezer, the refrigerator, the microwave, the house fan, and of course the laptops. Right now I'm blogging by candlelight, just like Abraham Lincoln would have done if he had been a blogger. The power company web site tells us a unit has been dispatched to our area, so we shouldn't be in the dark too much longer. There is no school tomorrow. Earthquakes, hurricanes, and one assumes some snow days; the kids will still be in school in July.
Dorn and a friend had driven down to the studio the day before and removed almost all of Dad's artwork, but he made a special walk to the studio to get me Dad's self-portrait from art school and his antique weaving shuttles. (I'm going to mount the shuttles over the door of my office.) We spent the next few hours sorting and packing. Mom had a list of last-minute stuff that helped greatly. Then we took a short rest and decamped for dinner.
For Mom's last evening in the area we went to a restaurant we first visited in 1959 to celebrate my parents' tenth anniversary and my third birthday. (I was born on their anniversary.) The server took our picture to document the occasion. We had a good meal, then went home via Dorn's favorite local soft-serve ice cream place.
At home, it was back to business packing and I had a golden opportunity to slip something into one of Mom's bags when she went to get more clothes. For years Mom has had a wild mouse living in the house who is a cherished member of the family. It was probably born in the house and it's so unafraid of Mom that it will come out of hiding right in front of her, even walking up to her feet. She had mentioned that she would miss the mouse, so I bought a small stuffed mouse and had Lydia write a note to tie around its neck that said, "I would be lonely without you so I stowed away." She'll find it when she unpacks that bag in Alaska.
The next morning we were up and at it again. I found it a bit hard to retain my composure while packing for Mom to move so far away, but I managed. Finally everything was done right at the stroke of three, when Dorn wanted to leave. So I took a last picture of Mom in the front door like we've always seen her, waving hello or goodbye. Dorn loaded their bags and my suitcase into my car and we left with no drama or tears.
When we got to the airport, a storm was gathering and it started to rain. We said our goodbyes and got all our hugs and kisses. I drove off away from the rain, which was blowing away fast. I stopped at a grocery store to buy my dinner and found my hotel. It would have been too creepy and tear-inducing to go back to the house that night. I had the easy evening, eating and reading; Dorn and Mom flew three legs to get to Anchorage and arrived around noon the next day.
In the morning I drove back to the house to pick up a plant and some boxes of stuff I was taking home that didn't fit in the car the day before. Another drive with too many potty stops, one of which included a bit of shopping because I was getting drowsy and needed to do something besides get road hypnosis for half an hour. I stopped to pick up the locking gas cap Karl had asked me to get (there was a siphoning incident at home) and filled the car with gas because we had a hurricane bearing down on us. My next-to-last stop was meeting Karl, Lydia, and Karl's parents to celebrate his dad's birthday. I let the cat out of the bag when I asked the server to take our picture, so dinner ended with a hat and an awful song for Pop. I am so doomed when my birthday comes around! Then a stop at the supermarket for some storm supplies, where the wait to check out took longer than the shopping. Finally I settled in at home.
Yesterday we got everything that could blow away into the garage or the old entertainment unit on the porch that we use for storage. The storm hit around six, and we lost power at nine. Our trusty generator kicked in, so we have power for the servers, the freezer, the refrigerator, the microwave, the house fan, and of course the laptops. Right now I'm blogging by candlelight, just like Abraham Lincoln would have done if he had been a blogger. The power company web site tells us a unit has been dispatched to our area, so we shouldn't be in the dark too much longer. There is no school tomorrow. Earthquakes, hurricanes, and one assumes some snow days; the kids will still be in school in July.