Sylvia's Journal

More rain this morning, as if…

I woke up early after a night full of dreams that included being banned from an air-conditioned room in a hot and crowded place because of some rules. I first left and later snuck back in, quietly. This is very unlike me. I am usually very compliant with authoritative orders, especially if they come from people wearing uniforms. I cannot remember if they were, but the feelings are still accessible: disappointment, frustration, self pity and jealousy.

In my dream I also encountered people who work in development and who have scary airplane stories. Since they could not talk about these openly I, or someone, designed an ingenuous way to do this that involved technology, colors and food. Now that I am wide awake I cannot reconstruct what seemed so clever in my dream. I still ‘see’ in my mind’s eye the one person with a small plate who had selected yellow. It contained a little dribble of (yellow) food, something resembling marmalade, which made it clear she was not going to talk about her airplane scare. The ‘red’ people received cameras, cables and rechargers. These were the people who were going to talk. I woke up just as they were preparing their bit(s).

The airplane scare was probably brought on by yesterday’s Globe front page picture of the plane from Australia with a huge hole in its fuselage that ended up landing safely in Manila. There is a part of me that believes the universe is orderly and that things come in threes; and that, therefore, I am owed one more scare, to complete the trio that so far includes the crash of 4337P and my frightening take-off from Kabul airport.

With my co-pilot Bill by my side I took off for Rutland yesterday. The fog at Owl’s Head has become a bit of a joke as the selected alternative course is the one we actually take. This has been going on for months. It was once again a new experience that Bill is so good at selecting for me: mountain flying. We took his plane which has no Garmin but he has one that can be mounted on the controls. In the past these were his controls, but now they were mine. It feels and looks a bit strange at first. It is evidence of my mounting confidence that I could handle this change. We flew to Rutland in a more or less straight line, I zigzagged a bit, and encountered little traffic. As we approached the mountains I had my first experience of thermals which was a little unsettling.

The trip took us over breathtaking landscapes. Flying conditions were not ideal, as they often are in the summer: hazy skies and large clouds ahead of us that were collecting beyond Rutland. We stayed out of their reach and when we returned back to Beverly we left them behind. The airfield was lovely, and mostly empty, except for one small jet taking off and later, when we were taking off, one landing.

I learned how to leave an airport that is at the base of a bowl between mountains by circling around it to gain altitude after take-off. We flew back practicing the use of VORs, one to direct our heading and the other for triangulation to check our position. I am doing more and more of the work, which includes communication and frequency changes, although Bill was largely in charge of the VORs. I feel increasingly confident dealing with traffic controllers along the way. Bill has taught me many things that are responsible for my increased confidence; the biggest one is the set up for landing to ensure I land where I am supposed to. He has provided me with additional forms and checklists and models how to be organized about the recording of information one one’s knee board such as writing down frequencies, radio etiquette and fuel tank use. I now too have a double knee board like him.

I was back on the ground at midday. Axel picked me up after he had been holding (coffee) court at Zuma’s in Ipswich, meeting then this friend, then that one. We drove by a yard sale with a rowing machine in the yard; a few hundred feet later, after having contemplated the importance of having such a thing in our life, we turned the car around and bought the machine that is now in our basement. Getting it in the car was a challenge since the back door doesn’t open anymore but we managed (where there is a will there is a way!).

The basement is not a great place for (winter) rowing because it is wet and moldy. But Axel has great plans for the place. The big cellar clean up will happen when certain other things have happened that have to do with Sita and Jim moving out and repairs to downspouts and gutters. We have talked about this for a long time and there is still no money for it. Nevertheless, Axel is sure the cellar will be his graphic design studio before the start of the winter. A graphic design studio that includes a rowing machine and a TV I reminded him.

We cleaned out books from the half empty studio in preparation for the cleaners who will make the place spic and span for its next occupants (Tessa and Steve). The titles of the books tell a story about Axel’s past professional aspirations. I also found some of my missing books. We removed the cat hair and put them in three piles: keep, throw out and save for the Zugsmith Society (that is a story for later). It was a hot and sweaty job and we rewarded ourselves with a swim in the warm waters of Lobster Cove. After that we headed out back to Ipswich for a southern seafood gumbo stew and a wonderful evening in the company of our hosts, Carol and Ken and our friends Edith and Hugh.