February 28, 1999
Home So Soon?
We caught our plane eight minutes before it was to take off. We cut it way too close, but managed to get our seats anyway because it wasn't full. Though the lady that was sitting in one of them told us off a bit for being so late. Poor lady. She'd been told by the attendants that she could sit where she liked. I mean, they'd already closed the door from the terminal to the plane...
We slept a bit longer than planned and had planned things a bit more closely than usual, and a few small delays added up. But we made it and got back to SeaTac at 10 a.m.. The car being so close was nice, and I drove home in a lack of sleep daze. Regis' truck was still in the driveway, and we got a good time to hug and stuff before she had to leave to help a friend move. Fezzik said a licky good-bye and he seemed really happy to see us. Regis had done really well by him, pampering him a lot and sleeping downstairs just so that he'd have company. That was cool of her.
By the time Regis left, two Land Rover folks showed up to collected parts that John was giving up so that he wouldn't have to move things. So they went through things and the four of us then used a come along to get a bunch of really heavy axles, a differential and some other parts into their truck and their trailer. It was fun to talk with them and learn about how everyone was doing, what were good place to buy from in the U.K. and how to do a few things we needed to do. That was really cool, and they hauled away a lot of heavy things that needed to be taken somewhere and used as John had no real use for them. There were Land Rover parts planted all over the yard, now they're in concentrated spots and some of them are even ending up on old Moby in the garage.
John spent the afternoon putting parts onto Moby, as the old truck would have to at least be mostly together, together enough that parts wouldn't fall off while it was being hauled to Boulder.
Fezzik wanted to be outside with him, and in the midst of everything, there came a thunderstorm. There was this tremendous crack of lightning immediately after a flash just above the house and Fezzik went charging out to chase it, barking his head off. Then the thunderstorm let loose a rattling fall of hail stones. About corn kernel sized hail just pelted down in a thick, white fall, and Fezzik got really confused by this stuff falling on him and all around him, and he fought his way back to cover only to shake when inside the garage, pelting John with ice.
I was happily oblivious, inside the house, mostly watching TV, sewing a bit on the patchwork, and thinking writing thoughts really, really slowly. I was still asleep from things. One thing I realized is that the tip of the quill was wearing away and I'd have to figure out a way to cut a new one. Clerks in quill times used to run through five a day, and I could see why, now, though that's a *lot* of writing. They didn't re-cut because most people didn't trust themselves to do so and after seeing what material the quill is made of, it's relatively tough, prone to splitting down the shaft, and slippery. So I can see how it'd be hard to cut.
When it got dark, John came in with Fezzik, and Fezzik curled up at the foot of couch, John and I curled up together on the couch and while hockey played on the TV the three of us napped.
I made a really simple dinner when we all woke up. Nothing in the freezer or refrigerator is going to make the move. I'm gradually using the last of the stuff in the freezer up. It's going to take a while, and we don't have that long.
Sleep was dead easy, and even Fezzik slept soundly. We had the cleaning ladies coming in the morning, so we had to get out early. It felt like an incredibly long day and it was hard to realize that just that morning we'd been in Boulder.