Halfway between then and tomorrow, I'm not sure what is going on with my projected trip of a lifetime. More discoveries all the time, though. Assuming or hoping that this trip is going to happen, I have ploughed my way through a huge catalogue of excursions, an assortment of several available at 89 ports of call. I have told you already that some are easy to eliminate, given my age and preferences and previous experiences. I've already taken a safari in Africa, snorkelled over seals and other amphibian wildlife, flown over the volcanoes of Hawaii, kept my distance from nasty crocodiles, and so on. I do want to see the Great Wall of China again, as the first time was not Great. But I have been amazed and beguiled by the memories that surfaced as I read of the exploits available to me, and also not available. I tell you right now, if you didn't already know it, that my travelblog will be geared to the speed of a cautionary, aging slowpoke.

I have no intention of walking on a suspension bridge high above a valley floor, nor do I want to career down a mountain path on any kind of vehicle. I'm not too fond of gondolas, either, the suspense kind not the Venice kind. On the other hand, I'm game for strange foods and taste sensations and I will most certainly come of age in Samoa.

hat is, if we get there. I'll keep you posted.

For a time there, I was in limbo, awaiting news of our poor crippled ship, and oddly enough, I calmed down. Now, today, I've had requests for (more!) copies of my passport and more information to be faxed and things are inexorably if more slowly moving again to D-Day. So I'm fluttering again. Paper and forms make me nervous. I had a character, an old lady in a play of mine, respond to a letter she receives in the mail with the kind of nerves I feel. She says,
"A brown letter! I don't like brown letters." Those are the letters you get from the government telling you that you owe money or you haven't filled out a form correctly. They always make me nervous, and so my old lady was nervous, too. Don't tell me that writers aren't autobiographical.

I've almost finished the trip on paper, i.e. the excursion catalogue, I've been reading as I try to decide what I'm going to do in each port of call (89 of them!). I'm just coming across the ocean (Pacific) on my way to Hawaii, living the trip in advance and keeping in mind how old I am. (I've had this conversation.) So I'm opting for shorter junkets, with time each day for a nap or a quiet time. Not forgetting that I have to write a blog each day, and I want to write the first draft, at least, of a new screenplay. I also have some stories I started several years ago, might bring those along. Short takes are better for a disparate trip like this one.

It's funny, isn't it, we say see you tomorrow, or let's have lunch next week, or I'll let you know, when we're talking in increments of a day or a week or two. But when I say see you in six months, I want to add "God Willing" because God knows where you or I will be and He hasn't told us yet. Anything could happen and it usually does, though not in the way we expect it to.