Heading Back

An overcast day in Toronto—we woke to a thin layer of snow. CBC insisted the day would be “mostly sunny” but not a ray of sunshine has broken through the clouds. The wind is busy, a little fretful, but not really thrashing about. It’s mild, the snow is melting so walking is sloppy. Here's what it looks like. 

I slurped through the wet snow  earlier when I took two small boxes of books and an envelope of papers to the post office—material I want to have in Hobart. (Don’t ask what it cost!)

 

I ought to have shipped things two or three weeks ago, but the trip became doubtful about then—first through Air Canada rescheduling our flights so Peter and I were on separate planes, and missing connections. He spent more hours than is reasonable over days getting that straightened out. Why is nothing simple or straightforward?

Then there was the question of my visa. Yes, Canadians need a visa to go to Australia. And because I’m going to be there for longer than 3 months I could not apply online. It finally arrived on Thursday afternoon—just after we had had an unresolved conversation about whether Peter would go ahead without me, if it came to that. So—things weren’t shipped and things weren’t packed. The past three days have been a little frantic.

But now I’m packed, except for this computer. Butterflies are flocking in my stomach, I’m so excited about this return. The morning email brought me an invitation from the Tasmanian Writers Centre to read at their year-end event at The Lark on Dec. 18^th. Peter and I will be in Adelaide from the 16-19, so I can’t take part. I’m sorry because I read at the year-end in 2009, not long before I left. It would be symmetrical to reading at it again. The invitation has made me feel even happier about the trip—I feel so welcomed and I’m not even there yet!

We leave for the airport in half an hour. I’m grateful we’re not flying east or south—where weather is cancelling flights. I hope we might be blessed with smooth sailing and no delays.