By that I mean not only am I excellent at sleeping but I also woke up with the first line of the article I have to have finished by Thursday in my head. Even better, I got it on paper before it evaporated in a yawn. I dug out a pair of ear buds on Saturday afternoon and have been listening to my interview (conversation, whatever) with Wendy the weaver and making notes. I've also been trying not to panic, knowing that it takes a day or two for my subconscious to mull over the info and come up with something. I'll listen another time or two today and be ready to write the first draft tomorrow. Once that's done I'm home free. Whew. I feel better. I kept looking over my shoulder at Thursday and it's reallyreallyreally big and reallyreallyreallyREALLYREALLY close. Looming, even. I'll make it, no sweat (she says with her usual running-scared brand of bravado).
August 22--Reunion Island. Kate made sure to look before she grabbed a vine to steady herself. She had heard too many horror stories of people dying when they grabbed what they thought was a vine that turned out to be a snake. The lush green mountains of Reunion in the Indian Ocean looked like Hawaii but they were much more remote and much more dangerous. The sides of the mountains were nearly vertical and the constant humidity made every rock and trail as slick as if it had been oiled. Kate was an experienced hiker but she was afraid. Raffi was an energetic and friendly guide, a bit to friendly for her taste and comfort, and he delighted in showing off how daring he could be. He had an annoying habit of not using his safety harness or a walking stick. She had a vision of him plummeting into a gorge, flying past her and the others in a screaming welter of flailing arms and legs. She hoped she was wrong because none of them knew how to get back to the trail head.
Not bad for being half asleep. Enjoy your week. I'll be in a mild panic.