My heart goes out to everyone affected by Sandy; Facebook photos (which have fast become more accurate, candid reporting than any corporate media outlet) are devastating. Here in northern Vermont, we pretty much escaped with just winds; friends in Cleveland, 500 miles from landfall, did not fare as well, with Cindy posting some truly incredible footage of the 24 foot waves on Lake Erie (eating away at her cliff / yard), and virtually everyone I know there without power for days.
I like how this was built; a wee lesson about getting around obstacles.
It makes my troubles seem tiny and whingeing, but I’ve had a rough start to the residency; that dizziness I last wrote about may not have come from the weather. I had a sudden, nasty relapse beginning Tuesday morning and spent 22 hours knocked out sleeping (sans food) and coughing, coughing, coughing. I finally felt able to sort of gingerly crawl to lunch yesterday and food helped, but then I had to excuse myself from the first residents’ slide night last night (I basically bolted out) due to an ugly, uncontrollable coughing fit, went back to bed and woke this morning with what must be a giant fever blister on my upper lip (I’ve not had anything like that manifest itself for over 20 years).
Dinner for roof birds.
So, today after lunch, I drove 60 miles roundtrip for serious cough and blister meds, Ricola drops and some things like a warm, cheap blanket and a strainer so I can make cowboy coffee in the mornings. There used to be a grocery / drugstore in Johnson (also a lovely organic foods / remedies shop), but they’ve gone. I’m kicking myself a bit because these are things I have better versions of at home that other people sorely need, and money’s tight because there’s no branch of my bank in Vermont to deposit the check I planned to live on. But I need to beat this illness and be more comfortable in order to be productive and honor my Fellowship’s donors.
Another disappointment was missing meeting Linda Cunningham in Montreal; we’d planned that for awhile. She’s gone back to Calgary now, taking with her the bottle of cask-strength Macallan she offered to share! Now that would have gone a long way towards comfort and cure. But these are all small inconveniences; I’m so grateful that I have a home to go to at the end of the month, and that I have even managed to get some work done: another ear cast (with stinky flax: I did remember the oxi-clean, which I’m sure my studio building mates are unknowingly grateful for) and another clay ear built and ready for plaster. And no matter what else is going on, I like – very much – being in a place that displays serious “Moose Crossing” signs.
A studio window gift from the last resident.