Tony‘s been up to the Pacific Northwest lately, taking pictures and writing about the quirky little stores and ocean views and the rain and all the nothing for miles – no people, just trees and sky and road. I shoulda told him to go up and check out those little buildings that guy made out of rocks, the world (not to scale) in miniature. Eaglemount Rockeries, that’s it. Maybe a bit out of his way, though.
I was there on my birthday, the day before Mom died. Baby Evan and Heather and her mom Shanghaied me and we went to a pumpkin patch and had ice cream at the little ice cream shop in a defunct train – the only time I’ve ever seen that place open. And then we stopped at Eaglemount and took some pictures, and then they dropped me at Mom’s house. A few hours later, she was delirious, and ten hours after that, she was dead.
This wasn’t supposed to be another post about my Mom. It was supposed to be about how, reading the busblog, looking at Tony’s pictures, I can smell the rain in the evergreens and feel the damp air on my skin and the hum of the car wheels on the wet road. Tony’ll be back home in southern California soon, and I’ll be glad, because it’s wonderful to read his words and see the pictures and know he’s as enchanted by it as I am, but it also makes me homesick.
It’s been beautiful here, too. The snow is pretty and it hasn’t been too cold and the sky was even blue yesterday. But the weatherdudes say some bad stuff is coming tonight. Also coming tonight is Nigel – his flight gets in at 7:30 and I hope the storm doesn’t delay his flight or muck up the roads so it takes forever to get him back to the house.
This is the last day of 2005, isn’t it? I sure had some hopes for this year. I sure hope next year is better.