5. USA: Disney World!

The Magic Kingdom

Everyone Having Fun!

Mara; Thomas

Epcot; Roger Rabbit

Our Condo

Saturday, June 15, 390 mile drive, 10 a.m. to 7 p.m., Panama City Beach to Kissimee, Florida.  Sunday, June 16 to Wednesday, June 19, Kissimee.

Saturday seems like a long drive, as we head east along the coast, then south through the middle of the state to Orlando.  After the beaches we pass through beautiful countryside, including many horse farms, before finally arriving in Orlando. 

Our brand new second floor condo is a big hit after our rather well used motel room in PCB.  We are located just off one of the main drags, and have: a big living room and dining area, a kitchen, three bedrooms and two bathrooms.  Our only complaint is the huge spider we find one evening in the living room.  (Fortunately, I am able to capture it and toss it outside unharmed.)  We have two television sets and, most importantly, a washer and a dryer.  There are hundreds of tiny frogs in the grass outside and near the ponds, and Robert is just about in heaven.  We're getting used to living out of the suitcases, but the thought of settling in here for several days is a pleasant one, and I have less trouble unloading the car completely for the second time. 

On our first night we eat at Pizza Hut and I visit the supermarket for groceries.  Afterwards, snug in our new home, I try to stay up and watch the Dodger game on TV, but being in the Eastern time zone somehow the Dodgers and Cubs game holds less interest, and I don't make it very far in the game that starts at 11 p.m.

Disney World is of course the reason why we came, and we spend our first two days exhausting ourselves first at the Magic Kingdom, then at Epcot.  Nobody is disappointed by the Magic Kingdom.  Robert and Jeffrey get their juices going on the big rides, but, after Space Mountain, Mara nixes anything adventurous.  At about ten o’clock, completely beat after thirteen hours and dinner at Sleeping Beauty's castle, we head to our home away from home, the Suburban, just as the fireworks are starting.

Epcot is less of a hit, but more interesting to Cathy and me.  We have lunch at a pub and visit the French pavilion.  Although crowded, neither the Magic Kingdom nor Epcot place is near capacity.  I decide that if there are lines in the afterworld, Disney should run them: the lines are long, but there are always things to keep you occupied.  The weather continues hot and muggy and Cathy remarks that she's as hot as she's ever been.  Given the more temperate weather in Southern California, I decide I prefer Disneyland.

On Tuesday we visit the Kennedy Space Center, as recommended.  I think the tour of the rockets and launching areas is as good as anything Disney has to offer and is a great break from the frenetic pace of the theme park.  The children are not quite as entertained, though they like the floor to ceiling IMAX movie and a fabulous gift shop.  Jeffrey is the winner, coming away with a cotton jumper with NASA logos, just like the astronauts wear.

Wednesday is our last full day and we return to the MGM Studios at Disney World: Star Tours, the Indiana Jones show, a tour of the movie making department, including the setting for "The Rocketeer," "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids", and the streets of New York and Hollywood.  Our best meal so far on the trip is lunch at The Brown Derby (the Cobb Salad is delicious!), despite my discovery, mid-meal, that I've lost my Mastercard.  I almost panic, but restrain myself enough to calmly finish lunch, and my patience is rewarded, as the card is later found and returned.  The family outing is marred, however, when Jeffrey comes down with a terrible case of what Cathy dubs "souvenir sadness," when we draw the line at the $70 Darth Vader mask.  As we leave this wonderful place of fun and imagination in the early evening, reality intrudes almost immediately in the form of a torrential cloudburst in the parking lot.  Cathy giggles, the boys and I take our shirts off.  Everything, but everything, we have on is soaked, the parking lot is a lake, a reminder that it's time to repack and move on. 

Space Center

Traveling keeps us off balance, on the go, fear of losing things, looking for food, worried about where we are, which way to go, etc.  It's good for you once in awhile, but, a whole year?! 

5. USA: Vicksburg to Panama City Beach

Thursday, June 13, 400 mile drive, 8:15 a.m. to 5 p.m., Vicksburg to Panama City Beach, Florida.  Friday, June 14, Panama City Beach.

From Vicksburg, it is a short distance east to Jackson, where we turn south to Mobile, Alabama on the Gulf.  The scenery is lush and green, except in places where road works and construction reveal the bright red soil below.  We stop at a DQ in Mobile for lunch.  The city looks very interesting, and I would like to stop and explore, but we push on, turning east once more.  It rains again, but by Florida it is clear.  I listen to a book by David Halbertsam on the 1949 American League pennant race between the Red Sox and the Yankees.  Movies again in the back.  We cross causeways and bridges, then make our way along the Panhandle through the beach cities.  The Gulf Coast cities look like a permanent party. 

Our hotel in Panama City Beach is located right on the beach.  Our room is a third floor apartment with a kitchen and a balcony overlooking the water.  We arrive in time for dinner and celebrate my birthday at the fish restaurant next door.  I receive as gifts a comb and a handsome leather case for my glasses, brought by Cathy all the way from Las Vegas.  I have another present, but she's forgotten where it's packed.  The children order shark. 

Nine year old Mara loves to tell our life story to everyone: hotel personnel, shopkeepers, fellow tourists.  Thomas, at three and two months, has finally started talking.  He may be late, but he is certainly not missing much.  His first real sentences are: "Make my day" and "Ready, John" (from an Arnold Shwartzenegger movie the boys and I watched before we left).  With Thomas in the bath, we all try to coax him into saying his wonderful new words. 

On Friday, we spend the day at the beach.  Cathy and I relax in our rented lounge chairs in the beautiful white sand, while the children play in the sand and water.  The, as advertised, is as white as sand in an ash tray.  The water, with its small waves, is near-perfect, clear and warm, perhaps 85degrees.   For our second night we dine at what must be the most popular place in town, Angelo's steak house.  By the time we're through, the crowds of kids have moved next door to the bungee jumping facility: a huge crane that hoists people up and drops them.  It is the first time we've seen it, and the sight is unsettling.

The drive back to the hotel is a slow march down the main street, which is bumper to bumper with cruising kids.  We're unsure if school is out or this is just a typical weekend.  In either event the town is definitely in a partying mood.  There's a lot of booze being drunk, as evidenced by the empty half gallon rum and vodka bottles outside the hotel doors.  At four in the morning we are awakened by a drunk caller.

5. USA: Tyler - Vicksburg

Tuesday, June 11, 250 mile drive, 10 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., Tyler to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Wednesday, June 12, Vicksburg.

We stop for gas and Delaware Punches in Louisiana -- I haven't had a Delaware Punch since I was about 16!  Armadillo road kill?  We experience a torrential downpour just before we leave Louisiana, and the Mississippi is duly noted as we cross at last our country's dividing point.

Everything in Vicksburg looks overgrown.  Our hotel, the Cedar Grove Mansion, is gorgeous, an old Southern mansion not far from the river, in the midst of an ancient, tired part of town.  The neighbors are mostly black.  Letters from my father are awaiting us at the hotel with four-day-old Las Vegas news and advice on what to do in Vicksburg.  It seems he has joined us in spirit.  The weather remains hot and muggy. 

Our first full day includes a morning drive through the civil war battlefield, following the points of interest with an audio tape.  Cathy and I are awed.  The children appreciate their history for a while, but when we stop are more interested in running down the great lawns than appreciating the historical markers.  Afterwards we visit the local museum with civil war memorabilia.  Upon leaving we are treated to a spectacular thunderstorm.  Thomas is absolutely terrified at the thunder.  Dinner is fried chicken.

The next day we take a riverboat ride on the Mississippi (actually the Yazoo) and see the other local sights.  Among other things, Vicksburg is the home of the first bottle of Coca-Cola.  In the evening we eat at Shoney's, where kids eat free.  Wow!  Afterwards, Cathy and I agree we will avoid Shoney's in the future.

Cedar Grove

Downtown Vicksburg

The Pool at Cedar Grove

The Vicksburg Civil War Memorial

Although the battlefield, the town and the Mississippi are well worth the effort, our hotel is really the star.  One morning we tour the mansion.  Our guide, a lovely young woman who has the most beautiful Southern accent I have ever heard, shows us where the Civil War canon ball remains lodged in the building's wall.   On an afternoon Cathy and I sit beside the pool and drink mint juleps.  The children love the pool, though I am not as vigilant as I should be.  On the second afternoon I look up from my book to see that Mara has just rescued Thomas (who at three cannot swim but of course thinks he can) from under the water—a story that will become a part of the family history.  In the evenings we watch fireflies on the lawns.  All in all our first real stop has been even better than we might have expected.

5. USA: Santa Fe to Tyler, Texas

Monday, June 10, 750 mile drive, 4:15 a.m. to 7:15 p.m., Santa Fee to Tyler, Texas.

Today is our longest drive.  We head southeast through New Mexico in the darkness to a magnificent sunrise and breakfast at McDonald’s in Amarillo, then south to Wichita Falls and its chocolate colored falls.  I am surprised at how green Texas is.  I listen to cassette recordings of The Firm and a Dick Francis mystery.  Cathy dozes.  The children watch "Thunderball" and "Quackbusters" in the back seat.

By five o’clock we are circling Dallas in a rainstorm, as we continue east.  I call the office from a gas station on the road.  No problems.  Pushed as far as we can go, we select as our stop the Sheraton Hotel in Tyler, 100 miles east of Dallas, picking it out of the AAA Travel Guide.  Robert says the clouds are uglier here than in Las Vegas.  It is very humid.  In the evening we eat at a very nice fish restaurant where we're sure the waiter has affected his "Y'alls" for the tourists. 

Before breakfast the next morning, Jeffrey and I go for a run on the beginning of a warm, muggy day.  Responsible Robert brings the younger ones down for breakfast.  Breakfast is $4.23.  Robert, a fifth grade whiz at times tables and math sheets and armed with a lesson from me on how to figure 15%, says it is too complicated and leaves a $5 tip. 

The most complicated thing so far is learning how to access AT&T so I can use my firm calling card.

The Road

Tyler

5. The Adventure Begins; See the USA in Your Chevrolet

Thursday, June 6, 1991.

After months of preparation we finally do it.  Today, D-Day coincidentally, was to be the day, but still too much to do.  We have said our farewells at the going away parties and nice things were said about us, one of the nicest being how many people were envious.  If they only knew!  I keep telling Cathy that we may have to stop in New England.  We still may not have the money to live in England but will take each day as it comes.  We have confirmed the house in Saffron Walden and at least one school.  We will drive across the USA in our Suburban, heading south and east, through Santa Fe to see our friends, Tara and Pasqual, pause a night in Texas as we head east and south before turning north, stopping in: Vicksburg, Panama City Beach, Disney World, St. Simons Island, Charleston, Nags Head, Chincoteague, Gettysburg and, finally, New York City for one last big bite of America.  My youngest sister, Alison, and her husband, Michael, will meet us in New York and drive the Suburban home.

Everything is well planned, from motel and ferry reservations to seats at the "Lost Colony" play in Roanoke.  In New York we have tickets to a Mets game and reservations to Broadway shows; but, most importantly, we have arranged a visit to the office of the mayor.  My grandfather, Ed Buckley, was the first budget director of the City and his picture adorns the Budget Director’s conference room.  Things almost fell apart just days before we left, when our visa application hit a major snag, but thanks to Sara Gordon in the O'Melveny & Myers office in London, our problem was solved.  The visas were approved and we will be able to get them at Heathrow when we land.

We leave the US on Thursday, July 4, not for any special reason; just because it's a Thursday, the last day of the week for the cheap fares.

 It's hard to pack for forever, not just a trip.

Last Weekend Stars Game with Bob

The Storage Shed

Leaving Day

 Friday, June 7, 1991.  660 mile drive, 10 a.m. to 11 p.m., Las Vegas to Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Saturday and Sunday, June 7, 8 and 9, Santa Fe.

 We finally leave after spending the better part of the morning calling the car dealerships for a part for the Suburban.  Until we actually pull out of the driveway, we are still adding last minute items to the car.  Each of us has two large suitcases (Brightly colored Lands End soft cases) and a carry on bag; there are extra bags as well: make up, my travel books.  All in all there are roughly twenty bags.  We also have our soft Eddie Bauer cooler (which uses reusable blue ice bags), lots of books on tape, CD's and cassettes, and most importantly, a portable TV/VCR and lots of movies.  There are other necessities: AAA maps and guides, folders with tickets, reservation information and confirmation numbers, and travelers' cheques.  We are jammed to the gills.

 As we drive out of radio range in Arizona the last thing we hear is Jerry Tarkanian's press conference following the announcement of his resignation as UNLV head basketball coach. 

 It's a long drive.  For the first time ever, I cannot keep my eyes open and Cathy takes over in eastern Arizona.  The children watch movies all day in the back seat, including "The Wizard" and "Supergirl."  We arrive in Santa Fe late at night.  Now that we can no longer add things to the car, I unpack the car and will repack it again more efficiently before we leave. 

 We have a fine visit with Tara and Pasqual.  On Sunday we walk up Canyon Road to Celebrations for brunch.  The people at the next table, who overhear our plans, tell us that Britain is the largest island in the world.  Afterwards we attend the procession of La Conquistadora in front of the Cathedral of St. Francis.  It seems that each time we go to Santa Fe we learn of another tradition.  Jeffrey and Thomas get new tennis shoes at The Foot Locker.  Late Sunday night we have a tearful farewell in the bathroom of the little guest house, all video taped, of course.  Pasqual, with tears in his eyes, says he loves me and chides me for not responding in kind.  It just takes me awhile to work up to it.  I repack the car and we are on the road by 4:15 Monday morning.

Sunday in Santa Fe

With Tara and Pasqual in Santa Fe

Ready to Leave

4. War Comes; The Last Leg: Final Details

Jeffrey and Mara

Thomas' 3rd Birthday, Robert at Scouts

Life as it Was

May 23.  Monday.  Beautiful morning.  The birds singing, chirping is more like it, with the occasional mourning dove "coo."  The grass was wet and cold to my bare feet this morning.  I'm waiting for Soledad (Soley) who usually is here at 8:15 - 8:30.  Perhaps, now that she knows we are leaving, she has found another job.

Yesterday, asked the Valley Bank for a big loan and missed the call back.  Will find out today.  In a way, approval/denial is a measure, an external measure, of success/failure, the latter of which I have not really learned to live with.  How will I handle rejection letters?

This will be remembered as a cool, windy May, more so than any one can remember.  But today is beautiful.  My allergies have not bothered me much at all this spring, some hard sneezing, but not much real shortness of breath, the kind that used to keep me tossing and turning at nights.

Yesterday I had much more anxiety than usual.  I told Cathy her attitude was finally wearing off on me.  I didn't use the word negative or defeatist, but that's what I was thinking.  I tell myself not to worry, what will be will be, and I am not really worried about not getting the money.  We can get by.  We can get Britrail passes or something like that, but I think what really bothers me is having to go outside, to depend on a stranger, in this case a banker, to get me through.  I keep thinking we shall change and live within our means, but we have not managed to yet, and here we are planning a year abroad, when we are guaranteed to go into the hole.

9:20.  Still waiting.  Cathy said we shouldn't tell Soley we're leaving until the day before we leave.  I said two weeks is courtesy.  Better for her to let us down than for us to let her down.

10:15.  Calling the Bank.  Procrastinating.  Is it better to hang in the balance than face yes or no?  Half afraid they will say yes, half afraid they will say no ...  Calm, collected.

10:40.  Said yes!  Guy changing the light bulbs on the top of the "H" above the Horseshoe, twenty stories up!

May 24.  Friday morning.  It will be 96 today.  Last night was lovely and warm.  I loaded up Kris J and Cathy's work product from Tuesday and took it to the warehouse, then bought sprinklers at Builder's Square.  Made it to Robert's game and a coolness settled in around 9 p.m.  It was lovely, but Thomas crawled into our bed during the night and tossed and turned, keeping me awake.  I awoke this morning with puffy eyes, sneezed a dozen times and blew my nose twenty times.  I balanced Cathy's checkbook, not even trying to find the $175 error, just taking the bank's word for it.

There is a lot of work to do before we leave, but with the bank loan in place, we are definitely detachable from Las Vegas.  Cathy goes in for her test on the 28th and she is to call the doctor on the 30th.

We received our insurance blood tests, etc. and I, for one, cannot interpret them.  My cholesterol seems high to me but is well in the good (I have not been exercising).  My prostate test result wouldn't have meant anything, except that Cathy heard on TV that it is in the good range.  (What a ridiculous idea: be informed so you can worry!)

So, anyway, I thought this morning that I would come in and just take it easy, think about our last days here and enjoy them.

 May 27.   Monday, Memorial Day.  Stunned on Friday with the news from Mr. John Gardner, vice consul at the British Consulate in Los Angeles: we do not fit into any defined category for our visa, so he can't approve it.  He expressed some regret, not at our plight, but that we had been misled!

I have been thinking of it each moment I haven't been busy this weekend, but I believe we shall weather it.

May 28.  Tuesday.   We sat outside in the back yard of the Kerestesis the other evening (Sunday) and everyone remarked at how perfect was the afternoon/evening weather: warm with a hint of coolness, but not sweater or even long sleeve weather.  Who would have believed that, planning as we did to leave June 6, we would not have had a 100 degree day.  We got close on Friday, but the winds cooled it down again.  We may get there, but barely, I think.

Trying to plan out my pitch to the British Consulate.

Really devouring mysteries and thrillers these last few weeks.  I was racing Robert and was through page 30 of my third book when he finished.  Mara was in the midst of a book and beat us both on our first one.  My ability to rack up pages is now legendary among Robert and his friends.

May 30.  Thursday.  Office.  Dark outside, should be lighter, but dark clouds.  The power is off.  It went off and on about six or seven times between 5 and 5:40 from a ferocious wind storm and finally shut off for good about 5:40.  It's never been off and on so many times before.  I'll take the stairs to leave.

Now what's going on in Las Vegas as we prepare to leave?

1.         We're the talk of the town.  People either don't really believe we're doing this or they are quite impressed!  We're expecting about 120 people tomorrow, wondering if 144 beers is enough, probably not.

2.         Frank Hawkins vs. Niccole Stupak are vying for city council.

3.         Richard the Fixer Perry having a beer in the jacuzzi with the Runnin' Rebels in 1989.  Jerry's contract has to be decided this July by UNLV.

4.         Big power outage here, no lights from here over to Commercial Center.  It looks like area close to Charleston is out too.

No news on Cathy's tests.  We're hoping no news is good news.  Supposed to get our visas tomorrow with Sara Gordon's help.

May 31.  Friday.  I can't believe it's June!  The sky just brightened for the first time since yesterday afternoon.  Our power at home was out from 5:20 p.m. to 7:15 a.m. or so.  For some reason it seemed to keep me awake last night.  Robert had "bad thoughts" about drowning.  I explained my fears as a child.  It wasn't much help.

Wind blew 80 mph yesterday.  Vegas World's sign blew down.  Cathy went to 6:30 mass, I pruned roses and wondered if God wasn't sending us some message, then thought that would be kind of a puny magic trick for God.

Sprinkles.  I couldn't park my car in the garage last night, the door wouldn't open.  This morning it looked like a red leopard: light brown spots on a red dusty background.

June 3.  Monday.  My mind is finally starting to go as I am losing track of all the  . .  .

I had the idea Saturday or Sunday morning while cleaning up the house after the party:  Bob Seeger's song "Night Moves" has the line, "working on mysteries without any clues."  My writing is exactly the opposite: I'm working on mysteries and everything is a clue.

Our bon voyage party was very nice.  Lovely, calm evening after the hurricane the night before.  Began raining a nice gentle rain, then a steady one about 1 a.m. or so.  The last hurrah for the LP's?  Jon ripped open my shirt as I sang "The Wanderer": "I tear open my shirt and show her Rosie on my chest."

Steve F. and Hilary the last to leave.  I drank scotch and beer.  I couldn't keep one drink, they kept disappearing on me: did I drink them all or just lose them?  Gary left late.  Bob D. loved all my single malt scotch I put out (let's get rid of it).

Sunday and Saturday packed.  Brought stuff to Kevin's.  Boxes of art work and booze to Cathy's parents.

Last night dinner at Chili's, desert at 31 Flavors with Goodhearts, Mara missing.  Today does not seem like her birthday (9th), does not seem like a birthday day, according to Cathy, and I agree, having almost run off to work without wishing Mara a happy birthday.  There are, I guess, simply too many things going on.

June 4.  Tuesday.  Beautiful morning.  Small cumulus clouds scattered over the sky, a South Sea morning.  Do these only come in warm weather?

June 5.  Wednesday, kitchen counter.  High clouds, mid 90's yesterday, no doubt more of same.  Frank Hawkins won last night.  Orel Hershiser pitched 6 1/3 shutout innings and gave up two hits to the Cardinals.  Dodgers are in first place by 1/2 game, 28W - 22L (.560).

Couldn't sleep this morning, Cathy awake also at 4:30 and we tossed and turned together.  I finally got up and took a bath at around 4:45 and read Dark Star, 1937 spy book, and watched the dawn break.

Lovely party at Romeo's last night.  Joe made a nice speech about how he knew me since high school, how I had brought excellence to the firm, moral guy, etc.  Very nice.  Cathy responded first, said how supportive firm was, Kirk and Will, included, nearly knocked her socks off.  I had shorter response, thanking everyone for coming, how this was kind of firm I was glad to be part of, I'll be back unless I make a million dollars and if I do, Joe can be my lawyer.

I chatted with Jodi, she didn't talk, just nodded her head, I finally realized she was simply choked up.  On top of us leaving, her firm is shutting down the office!

Thinking this morning, as I looked out on Las Vegas, I was reminded of arising early one morning in Maine and I felt a little bit of the loneliness, the sweet loneliness of travel, and I will remind the children somehow of this, to expect it, to enjoy the off kilter feeling of freedom and no home on the road.

The sprinklers are on in the back, our neighbor's red oleanders are blooming.

I have been out to eat: Thursday at Ferraro's with Gary, Cathy and Thomas; Friday, our party catered; Saturday, Viva Mercado's with Goodhearts and Dickersons; Sunday, Chili's with Goodhearts, missing Mara; Monday, Cafe Niccole with Gary and Jodi; Tuesday, firm party at Romeo's.

June 6.  Thursday.  Office.  D-Day.  Last day for sure.  Getting by on little sleep these days.

Cathy received a negative reading on all her tests from the doctor!  I am absolutely elated, not for me, but for her, knowing what she has had to go through, and how her mind must be eased now.

It is an interesting thing that, when I leave here, allowing for a week breather to unwind from work, the writing will be the most important.  Actually it is not interesting, it is wonderful and exciting.

Jodi can barely talk.  There are a lot of teary eyes; not me.  I can't seem to feel we're really leaving, and when we do that it's not just a long regular vacation.  Jan said she couldn't come and say goodbye, tears, I think.  Yet we've gone a long time before without seeing each other.  It must be the distance.

In looking back over the last several months, there seem to have been a series of setbacks that kept coming up, probably still will: getting the sabbatical approved, money, visas, renting houses here and there, the cars, buying airplane tickets, school in England.  Then there were worries: the school for the children and where to live.  You take them each day at a time and don't panic.

I am not teary eyed at goodbyes.  Never say never.  Live in the present.   (When I wrote my book I was in the past a lot, now, however [as a result?] better able to incorporate the past into the present.) 

The future has become the next day.

4. War Comes; The Last Leg: The Psychologist

May 10.  Friday.  At office at 7:10 or so.  Been to mass every day this week, which has been my resolution this week: to basically throw everything up to God, and put all this trip business in His hands.

"When are you leaving?"

"Have you found a place to stay yet?"

Finally had a good night's sleep last night after my early morning arousals earlier in the week.  After Pearl and Bill took us out to dinner at the Aristocrat, I did not feel tired and stayed up till 1 a.m. packing.

Cathy told me yesterday morning (while I was in the can and she was getting ready for work) that she has made an appointment for us all to go see "the shrink" on Monday!  I couldn't believe my ears!  I was too tired to complain, however, and I did not want to get angry at a well motivated idea.  After I thought of it, the best I could do was that it was sort of unfair making this decision on her own (she had to wait several weeks for an appointment), plus I hated to be so, well, trendy.

I hate to waste the money, I hate to submit my impulses/thoughts or those of my children to review.  I hate to admit I can't do it on my own.  Cathy says she is a very private person, yet. . . .  I had extra blood work, etc. from the insurance/medical tester for cholesterol, prostate.  I feel we are submitting ourselves for normality testing, feeling we can somehow control life.  It is a false sense of security.

I can't think of a logical reason not to go with Cathy and the children, who are a bit nervous.  Jeffrey thinks we will run out of money since I won't be working and Robert is nervous of the long plane ride.  (Jeffrey is "not a bit" nervous of the plane.)  These are natural concerns, as is the anxiety over leaving friends and home behind.  There is, as well, excitement at the prospect of discovery.  Problems arise in life and it seems to me that having to come to grips with these problems can only help the kids in life.  I can't really say that it hurts to go to the psychologist, but I would have a problem if this leads to some kind of attitude that (a) one needs to go to the shrink for help as a matter of routine or (b) the shrink is the answer.

It is May, 1991.  33 years ago I was attending daily mass at St. Monica's and making my first communion. I thought that perhaps by attending daily mass this spring I would be able to remember, rekindle the thoughts of that second grader as he prepared to leave home for the year and go to England, leaving his best friend, Peter, behind.  Nothing much there.

May 13.  Monday.  High clouds still, after a Saturday of breeze and sun: warm, then cool when the sun went behind the puffy clouds.  Trend is warming.

I thought I would come into work and pretend I was Wallace Stevens this morning (he published his first book at 43, Robert Frost was 39), but it seems I am in such a hurry I just can't relax and think of nothing but words.  Something new pops up.  Thought I could write a discourse on language.  Imagine the power that words have held!  Jesus spoke words, Adolf Hitler spoke words.  The most powerful words in the world are "This is my Body," (and I remember, "Hoc est enim corpus meum"): the power of man to change bread into God.

May 14.  Tuesday.  Wind blew hard last night, 30 - 40 mph.

Had the thought this morning that our trip across the U.S. June 6 - July 4 is just like me vs. my father.  Our trip in 1958 brought us to England on June 16, my mother said, less than nine days (4 across the country, 5 across the ocean) after our departure from Malibu.

There’s another reason I feel as if I were a high school senior: not only do I see the end in sight, I realize that along with the new freedoms will be new challenges.  I haven't, however, had the time or the desire to think of our actual leaving. 

Cathy is now actually paralyzed by the thought of all she has to do.  If I had a nickel for how many times she's told me she doesn't have time to do her check book, I could buy her a dozen roses.  She keeps saying she is "overwhelmed."  Now she has determined we must have a farewell party before we go.  With the end in sight she is starting to get really worried.  I have tried to guide her: think of the end result, picture the goal, do not think of the distance, but the next step (the runner's philosophy).  She cannot, however, take her mind off of all she has to do.  I suggested she make a list of the things she has to do, and do a certain number each day (that was several weeks ago), but she hasn't.  I am afraid it is all now bearing down on her and there is nothing I can do but plod on in my own steady, seemingly unfeeling way.  I do pray for her everyday, knowing she has to conquer her beasts from within, not through me.

Went to the psychologist yesterday, Joan Owen.  Very pleasant, Ph.D. in psychology.  Tall woman.  Spoke with us, then the children.  Afraid I spoke too much.  Cathy needs to vent a little more.  Jeffrey said it was the best time he'd ever been to the doctor, he had the most fun.  They drew pictures with eyes closed, then told stories.  The doctor confirmed that the children handling things very well.  But Thomas is an issue and a June appointment has been made.

May 15.  Wednesday.  Clear, strong breezes, warm.

Talked to Nik S. about Yugoslavia.  He is from Croatia, which is largely Catholic.  Serbia is a southwest part of the country and has a Moslem population.  Ethnic problems.  Does not recommend that we go to Medjegordje now.

Still need a place in New York besides the Gorham.  Three weeks!!  The time for money is running out!!

May 17.  Friday.  Windy outside.  There is dust in the air.

I remembered yesterday that I am able to make the time slow down before we go simply by imagining the day we leave and wanting it to hurry and come.  Like the runner who wants the race or the run to be over, anticipation can make the run seem longer.  Thus, I could, if I wished, make the days seem longer; but then I think I would miss out on looking at every step along the way, smelling the roses, as the saying goes.  So I'll just keep on, each step, each day at a time.

I now need to make alternate plans about money.  I don't think I can safely count on PR fees coming in.  Do we let the car go or do we get the money and make arrangements for our left hand drive car?  A hard decision.  We could just buy a used one over there, though I know that concerns Cathy.

Cathy and I had a spat this morning.  Yesterday I packed a pillow that is supposed to go with us, and before that, some towels.  Then Cathy did not know which box was going to England (I had told her), even though she's packed something in the box.  I argued with her, told her which were the boxes and that, since she's been complaining about all the packing, I have tried to steadily keep packing.  She can't complain that she has so much to pack, then complain that I pack the wrong thing—at least so it seems to me.

May 20.  Monday.  Clear and sunny, lovely.  Lovely morning yesterday, breezy in the afternoon.  This is a big week, when much money is due!

May 21.  Tuesday.  Heard "Stairway to Heaven" on Candy's radio and decided to put on Dylan.  Bootleg Tapes, volume II.  These are great songs.

After I came back from noon mass yesterday with my raspberry yogurt, I sat at my desk, curled up, as it were and had a delicious feeling of cold, a shiver, yet at the same time of being protected, a good feeling.  I wondered if heaven would include feelings like that.  Is it so far beyond what we know that there is no comparison?

May 22.  Wednesday.  Sunny and clear.  Thunderstorm at 4:45 p.m. yesterday afternoon.  The days are definitely warm now, though the nights remain cool.  (Warm, it appears, is the difference between days in the low 70's to high 80's, after that it's hot.)

Purchased wool socks at the Fashion Show with Jeffrey on Saturday.  Felt great, made me think of England.

 I'm beginning to think that Cathy's worries and fears are catching.  All of a sudden it seems there is too much to do and not enough time.  I have blithely said, we will do it, we will get it done and knew nothing was a problem.  (How was I able to achieve such an about face in my own thinking?)  The fact is that now, with the departure date approaching, money has become very clearly into focus and reality is battling my determination, which is based more on blind hope than anything else.  I feel the same is true with regard to Cathy's recent possible medical problems.  I hope.  I know nothing will be wrong.  I believe there is no sense in worrying until we hear some bad news.  Am I being realistic?

We say goodbye to Daisy on Saturday morning at 6 a.m.  I will put her in the kennel and send her on the airplane to Spokane.  Jill will pick her up and bring her back to Hayden Lake, Idaho to see her mother and brother.

We were not offered seats at the Juvenile Diabetes fund raiser dinner this year (last night).  Not that we wanted to go, but it would have been nice to be able to turn it down.  We are already being phased out.

In hindsight, going to the psychologist was a pleasant experience, but certainly an unnecessary one.  The only really good idea she had, which I hadn't already thought of, was to buy a tape recorder and record the thoughts of the children. 

Speaking of hindsight.  How times have changed!  I'm sure we did not have as much stuff when we moved to England in 1958.  Was it necessary to rent a warehouse back then?  Perhaps Bekins storage for the furniture.  I thought about this a couple of days ago and believed I might have something very profound to say about possessions, but perhaps the only point to be made is that our (i.e., Americans') relationship with possessions has changed profoundly since 1958.  In 1958, 13 years after the war, I suppose there was still a sense of trepidation (did people save?), worry at the new world order.  The consumer products industry was still in its infancy.  ("Made in Japan" meant something cheap.)  Now the numbers and amount of things, the abundance, is absolutely incredible!  We have so many more things than my parents ever did, yet for what purpose?  To what end?

Everyone asks if I am excited.  Seems that my mind left work weeks ago even if I can't physically leave.  Worries tie me down, prevent me from enjoying a giddy feeling of anticipation.  I don't think I will feel that way until the 4th of June (my last day at work) or perhaps the 6th as we leave town!