Digging in for a week at the Yosemite Bug hostel. Don't think I am sleeping in a bunk, we have a nice cabin on stilts on the side of the mountain. We walk on catwalks to get to the door after climbing switchbacks from the main lodge. The main lodge is a completely happy, rustic place where you are free to spend the entire day hanging out, working, whatever. After two days negotiating Los Angeles, I did nothing but sleep and stare at the ceiling today. Lance is going to go shooting photos in Yosemite, which is thirty miles away. I will stay back and do some editing and writing on the book I am hoping to finish by the middle of the month.
We were supposed to return home March 1, but after looking at the weather forecast, I decided to fulfill a long-time goal of renting an alpine cabin and writing. We'll see if the reality matches the ideal!
Meanwhile, back at the Hilton, Aunt Olla had a very tough night a couple of nights ago. Might have been heart issues. She was unresponsive twice during the night. They called my cell phone out here in LA. Those middle of the night calls are scary, but I am so glad they keep me posted. Tracie, Joe and Kae went in the next day. Olla had been up all night, yet she seemed no worse for wear and told stories they had never heard before, just as if nothing had happened 12 hours before. Incredible. I was about to drive home, but when I heard the good report, I decided to continue on with plans here. As a matter of policy, I have decided that not taking long trips just because you have a 101-year-old back home isn't the way to approach life. The 101-year-old might live to 105, and who am I to think I am that important anyway.
I still can't load pictures here. Frustrating. I guess the thousand words will have to do.