We made it. With time to spare. Jer’s insistent amygdala anxiety kicked in at 2:35 AM, he got up and said, “let’s go,” I robotically obeyed, and we traveled home to Portland, arriving somewhere around 8 AM. Wierd, weird, weird because of the dark early morning hours, but clear roads and almost no traffic.
So we are safe home. The heat did not fail (one has myriad anxieties) and we don’t think any pipes burst, although in the to-be-renovated downstairs bathroom, the pipes are frozen. We won’t know if they’ve sprung a leak until they thaw — in however many days. In the meantime, however, all systems are doing well. Lily-the-contractor had organized the plumber to turn the gas back on in the studio and just as soon as I figure out how to reconfigure the system (2:35 AM has a deleterious effect on one’s mental processes), it will work just like advertised.I hope.
But that’s in the studio where I don’t need to go until I regain full faculties.
So everything is here and doing well. It has been suggested that I might need a nap. I think suggestions like that are to be taken very very seriously. –June