Hit the Road, Jill!

In 2013/2014, I knew that spending 9 months on the road might be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so I sometimes wrote about adventures and emotions that didn't have much to do with research. For example, I blogged about rooming in a fracker's hotel and about the depression that hit me during that year's overlong winter. For the first 4 months of my present sabbatical, I haven't had similar stories to tell. I have been doing much of my work from home, on a computer. Other than buying a membership at the Derry Township Community Center and taking up swimming as a new form of exercise, my life outside of my research has been much the same as it's been for years. 

Today, though, I packed up my car and drove to Norristown, where I'll be researching the history of the Montgomery County - Norristown Library. Since this is my first "away" trip, I want to capture a little of what today was like. 

To be honest, it began in a nerve-wracking fashion. Yesterday morning, our cat Colbie started howling, refusing food, and hunkering down in a difficult-to-reach corner on the far side of our living room loveseat. This morning she wasn't any better, so Mike drove her to an animal hospital in Hershey while I stayed home and finished getting ready for my trip. After 2 hours, I relieved him and stayed with her until she was discharged -- several more hours, umpteen tests, and $1,500 later. Everything points to an infection, and the vet seemed confident that a shot of antibiotics will do the trick. But I've got a sinking feeling that a sad chapter in my personal history might be repeating itself. The last time I was on sabbatical, we lost 2 of our cats, Fili and Gabby, and while I powered through those hard times, I wasn't the better for them. In addition to their suffering, I haven't forgiven myself for not being by their sides, and neglecting Mike, while I was focused so intently on my work.

Canceling my research trip for what appears to be "just" a cat's temporary illness, especially when I have a non-refundable booking for a weeklong Airbnb, doesn't seem like a logical choice, though. So, by 2:30 p.m., I was standing by my car, hugging Mike tightly as he double-checked with me about the vet's aftercare instructions. To remind myself that I am taking a sabbatical from work, not from my family, I placed a small cat, built from LEGO, on the dashboard of my car, and I resolved to call home as soon as I was settled.

My travel companion
-- and a reminder of family

Then I slid into the driver's seat, tapped a Norristown address into Google Maps, and asked Spotify to play me some Smokey Robinson. When I was a kid, my parents listened to a lot of 1950s/1960s doo-wop and Motown, so I find crooners from that era to be comforting. I skipped over "Tracks of My Tears," but I let my shoulders loosen to "Just to See Her." After about 40 miles, I felt like something more up-tempo, so I switched to Ray Charles. In time, a sassy smile spread across my face and I found myself singing along to "Hit the Road Jack" and "What I'd Say." As I jetted eastward on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I noticed how farms in Lebanon, Lancaster, and Chester counties are starting to green up, and that trees along the highway are budding. Thinking about the daffodils and tulips that I'll see over the next few weeks brightened my spirits, so much so that my 90-minute drive passed by more quickly than a trip toward Philadelphia ever has. Thank goodness, I found and unlocked my Airbnb without trouble. As I unpacked my belongings, Smokey, Ray, and I sashayed around my new bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. 

After a quick chat with Mike and hearing that Colbie's well-being is no better, but no worse, I slapped together a ham sandwich, flopped into bed, and began to write. Now that I'm about to get ready for bed, some of my words feel like prayers:

Please let Colbie recover.

Please give Mike an easy week.

Please let me reach the library safely tomorrow.

Please let this trip be successful.

Only time will tell if all my wishes are answered.