The Lack of Blogging Is Due To A Family Tragedy

Dear readers I am behind on my blogging and I wanted to let you know what has happened.

I have a few blog posts already written and ready to post but for the images. The images always give me grief for some reason. The ones of the Pierre Marcolini trip are many and varied. I, however, had to go to San Francisco for work and as I blog alone, I got behind on posting things.

San Francisco was OK. I had a sharpened wooden peg in my food on my birthday, my first room had mould which set off my allergies, and the weather was so-so when I arrived (torrential rain). I had a packed week of late nights, few lunches eaten and extreme work but I powered through and I was proud, if tired, at the end that I had accomplished so much on the trip.

My Gran had gone into hospital just before I left for SF and I was told that she was not coming out. This news before a major work trip was not good but I knew my Gran was made of strong stuff. She had survived things few would believe. She made me who I am today. So I packed a bit for Toronto and for SF and I fully expected to be over packed and to regret the weight but be glad for the preparedness.

On Saturday morning I checked my messages as I woke as I always did. The news, that last Saturday in SF when I was hoping to go do tourist stuff, was the worst possible. My Gran had passed in the night. There I was alone in SF which was still a strange city, cut off from everyone and feeling desperately alone in a hotel room. I cried. A lot. I updated Twitter and Facebook, emailed people and got on the phone to the airlines. I spent almost every hour of the day on the phone to the airlines bar 3 trying to arrange a flight to Toronto and rearrange my flight with an airline that could not help me get to my Gran or back to London. I cried more. Thank goodness for one friend in SF who called me though they could not visit and a few great people on Twitter who helped me feel less desperately alone.

Sunday morning I woke screaming from a terrible dream. I woke screaming for my mom in a wailing voice full of pain I never thought possible. A piece of myself had passed – a person who made me who I am was gone. I guess the dream was a way of her telling me what she needed to pass on to me before departing. Thus I write to you dear readers to explain that I will be posting the backlog – possibly without pictures for the moment – and please excuse me if the blog stays a little behind.

I hope you’ll understand the turmoil in my life has made it difficult and I do very much hope that those of you reading this are in a much better place in your lives and that you are blessed. I know I was to have such a woman in my life.