It’s transition time.

Right now, I’m thinking that I am tired of having jobs that have me travelling all over the state of Alaska. Some of the places I go to, it would be faster and easier to get to the opposite coast.

So here I sit, listening to Joni Mitchell singing, “I could drink a case of you,” and I almost forgot where the comma is on my keyboard. I fumbled around and realized that the key had a drop of chocolate on it. Dementia much?

Well, not yet.

But I digress.

Lest you think I exaggerated an earlier claim regarding travel, allow me to describe a recent trip I took to some Western Alaska villages.

Fly to Ketchikan and get on a jet. Stop in Wrangell, Petersburg, Juneau, and land in Anchorage. Spend the night in Anchorage. Fly to Bethel. Fly to Emmonak and stay a day. Fly to Kotlik and stay a day. Fly to Bethel. Spend the night in Bethel. Fly to Kalskag and stay for two days. Fly to Bethel and on to Anchorage. Spend the night in Anchorage. Get on a jet that stops in Juneau. . .throw in an extra two days for flight cancellations, and you’ve got an epic journey indeed.

Oh, and when getting weathered into Bethel, realize two things: 1) the cabs only take cash, and 2) you don’t have much cash. Describe your potential dilemma to the cab driver, who says, “Welcome to Bethel, where nobody cares.”

So perhaps I’ve had enough. I’ve got more small plane adventure stories than many folks, but nothing really dire has happened. So maybe I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

What next? There’s a limit on knitting because of arthritis, sitting at the sewing machine eventually hurts my back, bread doesn’t take that long, the cat doesn’t need me to take him for a walk, and a little housework goes a long way with me.

How’s this? Knit a few rounds a day, make bread anyway (but don’t eat any after 6:00), pet the cat when he lets me, do just a little bit on my quilt at a time, call my boys, travel a bit with my husband (but only on big planes). 

Not to mention the odd substitute teaching day here and there, and keep studying Spanish. Who knows, fluency may yet arrive in a flash of blinding light.

What to do between all these snippets of greatness? Write, I guess, and take walks, and maybe dance along to the radio.