Three Weeks Today (written March 7th)

If Saturday was a bad day, Sunday was a good one. Nick and I spent two hours hiking in the hills behind the house, through the eucalyptus groves and by the glowing mimosas humming with bees. Sounded like an L.A. freeway. It was the best two hours we'd enjoyed together in the last three weeks. At a guess joining the family for a walk on the beach after lunch was what laid him out for part of the late afternoon, but by the time we finished dinner he had enough energy to win three of four rounds of Mah-Jong.

Not sure how we avoided it, but jet lag seems to have skipped us this time. Cayenne and Acacia have been rock stars: game for anything we suggest doing, gobbling down the delicious food Ilona and Michel whip up and playing fairly quietly the rest of the time (something not lost on Sam, Nick's 94 yr old grandfather). It's just one of the many things I've been thankful for lately. I can't tell you how grateful I was for the weather in Denver. Nick shivered for much of the first two weeks after the accident. Durango weather was in the 40s and 50s but we had a fire blazing in the hearth 24 hrs a day and any time we left the house for another doctor's appointment, he'd shake the whole way there. So when we got to sunny, wonderfully warm and windless Denver, I was keenly aware of our good fortune.

When we were driving over Wolf Creek Pass returning from our first trip to the eye doc, we passed by a nasty wreck. A semi had lost control and instead of going off the ledge at the approaching hairpin turn, he made a sharp left across the oncoming traffic lane, flipping over and smashing head-on into an SUV. When we drove by the lit-up scene Nick shuddered. I thought it was because of the horror of it all, but he said seeing wreckage literally made him feel cold. It seems part of the reason he was so wet and then freezing while waiting for rescue in the snow was when he was hanging upside-down strapped into his seat, a broken fuel line was emptying itself all over him. Good thing G didn't decide to celebrate their survival with a cigarette!

(Actually G was conscious of the line, because he called out, "Hold on! That's the fuel line," when Nick went to grab it to hoist himself upright. Whoops!)