There's No Place Like Home
Well, I'm home in one piece, mainly due to Derek's excellent driving.
I've been semi-comatose the last two days, sleeping most of the time that Der
was driving and then sleeping 10-12 hours every night. I got a nasty bug
somewhere on this trip, but I have no obvious suspects, so I'll just deal with
it. I need to get Der, The Official Trip Photographer to upload a few pics
for me to share. Those of you who are Bay Area denizens will recognize
most of the shots, including a disproportionate number of shots of the
Haight-Ashbury district, where Der and Max seemed to have spent a lot of time
(including one impromptu Yoga lesson). I really have to set aside more
time to spend in The City. I always seem to end up on Fisherman's Wharf or
Union Square, when I really want to see the giant jungle gym in Golden Gate
Park.
Dima did a brilliant job of holding down the fort while I was gone, though he
too was struggling with a bout of something nasty. Speaking with him on
the phone was like communicating with the near-dead, but I kept seeing a steady
stream of emails to clients indicating his progress in keeping up with things.
I did manage to call Junie every day, but not with my usual regularity.
I received a copy of The Ravens Chronicles Whimsy Issue for which I
(quite naturally) had a poem accepted. At some point in this trip I also
had two poems accepted by Blackbird. I can't remember submitting
them, but that's nothing new. I think that, shortly after my demise,
hopefully some time in the distant future, my heirs will still be receiving
journal acceptances.
I took a short gander at my email Inbox and got depressed. I have to send
out my last review to That Noted Publication that I finished a week ago but have
been unable to get transmitted. Then, I've got a whole lot of catching up
to do.
More tomorrow.