After the hike on Saturday and a dinner with Christine and other friends that night, the cold I'd had for several days started to get worse, and by the following afternoon I had a fever. So the last 24 hours have been more or less wasted. Although I'm feeling a little better now and have started packing and cleaning for my departure tomorrow morning, my last days here have been subsumed in the sensations of being ill. Today when I drove to Twentynine Palms to gas up the car and to eat lunch, I looked around at the landscape, which I have gotten used to and which I won't be seeing after today, and attempted to see it with new eyes. I'll miss the views from the house.
My trip here has been a success, in that I made good contacts and I found what could be the key to the second part of the novel. It's been a failure to the extent that I haven't followed up on some leads, more or less out of shyness or laziness. There's much more I could have done. But I'm glad I came.
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