I have been unable to make my internet server work since I returned from my trip, so here I sit at the gallery computer, making a start at catching up. I have gone crawling back to Verizon, so I should be back on line soon, but until then I must type furiously when I get the chance.
The workshop ended at Lane's cove, which is a place I have always loved to paint. Though Betty Lou began a demonstration there under cloudy skies, the rain did not hold off and soon her painting was washed away before our eyes. We students stuck with her, crowched under jackets or, if we were lucky enough to have one, an umbrella. She ignored the weather as I have seen her do so many times, continuing to paint and talk until there was nothing left on her paper. Lisa and I headed for the studio, but braver souls remained at the site and were rewarded by a clearing, then sunny day. I was glad to get the chance to do a still life, and so was Lisa. We spent the day in comfort, sitting at our tables and snacking on the remains of the party two nights before.
The day ended with a critique of the week's work, well over a hundred painings. Then followed the ritual good-byes, the exchange of names and addresses that will never be used, the hugs and waves, the hopeful and optimistic sound of "See you next year!" filling the air. Betty Lou accepted the usual acolades and thank-yous with her usual vague and indifferent smile. Then we were in the car and gone.
It had been our plan to go directly from Rockport to Cape Cod. We had packed our things that morning and left Lorraine's ready to travel. As we whirled around Blackburn Circle and onto 128, though, it began to rain heavily. Traffic was heavy and it was very difficult to see. Then we heard on the radio that there were flash flood warnings for route 93, where we were headed, and that some exits from 128 were closing. After some deliberation we made the uncommonly sensible decision to return to Lorraine's apartment for the night. She had left for Maine to see her brother, but her landlady opened the door for us. We dragged enough things in from the car to get through another night and made ourselves at home.
With the rain punding outside we opened Lorraine's best bottle of wine, toasted ourselves, and had a wonderful dinner of left-over spaghetti, salad, and frozen garlic bread we found in the freezer. After the dishes were done, we fell gratefully into what had become our accustomed beds and fell asleep.