Yes, yes, I have been gone but I'm not dead. Although I might be soon, seeing as I am Juneau, Alaska (rainy!), about to embark on a kayaking trip in Glacier Bay National Park toute solo except for the boyfriend.
You know, I wouldn't be quite so worried except for the grizzly bear factor. Although I should probably be more scared of the the moose. That is, if we don't flip over and drown and/or freeze to death in quick order, or possibly, get crushed by a calving glacier.
Things did not get off to a smooth start at the airport this morning when I *forgot* to bring the "bonus ticket" that would have allowed me to fly for free (and which I had used to secure my flight months ago), and therefore had to fork over $600 bucks if I wanted to get on my flight.
Well, naturally, I did fork it over, because you know how well I'm doing financially - hey, I still have a couple thou left on my credit card before it maxes out! I can only pray I did something smart with that bonus ticket like "file" it at home - which always gets me in trouble. Whenever I "file" something instead of leaving it on the massive pile of paperwork that generally adorns my dining room table, it disappears from my pathetic memory, which has been recently more overwhelmed than usual by MOVING.
Yes, we found a place to live that wasn't in some far-flung wasteland but in fact right in the city with plenty of room and hardwood floors and a yard and basement (albeit one with dirt floors, numerous frighteningly dark crannies that I assume house a ghost of some sort --- after all the house is almost 100 years old -- and that the pug insists on exploring every time we makde a foray into the basement. One of these days he will lead me straight to the ghost, just like in the movies, and that will be the end of things, unless of course it's a friendly ghost, but only time will tell.)
Yet-to-be-discovered ghost aside, it is a very pleasant and spacious house, except for a few minor things like, oh, the windows don't open and none of my furniture fits in it. Moving went as smoothly as moving could go, which is to say, not very, although it really only entailed one screaming fight that happened at the very end when we were both exhausted and involved me throwing 1)a bottle of all-purpose cleaner and 2)a package of dog biscuits at Dave, who luckily dodged them both.
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes, Juneau. It is rainy and cold, much like Seattle, so I feel right at home. Mountains rise up right around the streets of downtown, which are twisty and turny and steep. There are lots of people in rubber boots as well as grizzled old men who look like sea captains. I thought flying into Seattle was scenic, but when you land in Juneau, you plunge right into a luminous gray green mountain seascape. (Is that phrase gramatically correct? I am so f*cking delirious I cannot tell.)
And yes, I am very much looking forward to our flight to Glacier Bay on a tiny plane in thick gray clouds, and perhaps a little thunder if we're lucky, thanks for asking.
I'm sorry I have no charming photos for you today of my pug in a sweater or some such thing. One day soon things will be back to normal. Maybe. Anyway, I will talk to you all when (if) I return.
xo
Rebecca
