Thursday, October 18, 2007
Thursday, October 18th. Happy Birthday, Summer!
By the University you can see Grizzly tracks impressed into the sidewalk. I noticed this because I was looking downward, steaming ahead, trying to get to the shipping depot by Missoula Albertsons in order to mail home some of the books that I had told myself I wouldn't buy, and my dirty clothes. I decided to do this because leaving Calgary I was in a sweat over the possibility that the customs/security people would decide to open my luggage and because it was sooooo full, I'd never get it closed again. Picture me sitting on my luggage and trying to get it zipped. It takes me back to my teens, department store dressing rooms and jeans. The memory is not good. I'd rather not worry over it.
The weather turned. Skies darkening, the wind picking up, yellow leaves alight in the air. I hope it doesn't get bad, I have to fly in the morning.
I spent the afternoon in the Missoula library. I love libraries, and this one was a good one. I wrote a little on Kandee Widows, caught up on e-mail, and people-watched.
Upon my return to the hotel I had a message from the wonderful Elizabeth at Grove. She's great, Grove's great. It makes a big difference to me to have a phone call, an e-mail message...Away doesn't seem so adrift.
I attempted to utilize the stair stepper at the Doubletree fitness center, but the machine was smarter than I and I gave up after several minutes of balancing on one foot until the step went down, then trying the next. It felt ridiculous and looked stupid, nothing at all like the spirited workout that I had seen other people engaging in. I went to the bicycles. I ride my REAL bike at an average of 17-18 mph, while talking with my girlfriends. This one had me pegged at 7mph. And it was harder, and more boring, and I managed to last 20 minutes. By then I was sweaty, had burned 20 calories and was ready to go consume 2,000.
At the dining room I asked for a window by the river and after a Balvenie, dreamily wrote about the heron and the kayakers, the ducks and the joggers rushing by. It was a good dinner of prosciutto, whiskey and cake.
Now all that is left is packing... (AM I PACKING AGAIN?!!!)
and as soon as Louis gets home he is going to give me my sister's phone number off my rolo and I will call and sing to her even though it is not pleasant to hear, it must be pleasant for her to think how much better her voice is than mine.