With the arrival of a new car and the final finishing this weekend of the Woesome Wall tides are definitely turning, reintroducing comfort and stability in our lives, all too often driven by all excitement that deviates from the ordinary.There’s a lot we keep wishing for, with temperatures reaching record lows for the time of year and thus creating headlines in newspapers, so it must be that I’m still avoiding reality when I preposterously open the tiny window in the cat cave every morning, but to try and keep Spring out is doomed to fail anyway and the sunny days are a gift that keeps on giving, even more so when the forecast warns us differently.
Other encouraging news reached us yesterday when I received an answer to my query at the local pharmacy how to go about getting our Covid vaccination. We’re finally allowed on their list and that may not sound too auspicious to you, but we learned the hard way a long time ago, after we stupidly got stuck on an island on the coast of Mozambique, that putting one’s name on a list, on any available list for that matter, is the start of all things moving forward, even if it’s an overcrowded vessel transporting ten times the maximum amount of passengers imaginable. It takes a lot of patience for sure and there are storms you still have to endure, but being capable of answering ‘I’m on the list’ somehow firmly calms every wild sea ahead.
These turning tides bring back memories of how indispensable traveling used to be to us, a shared pleasure, along with a certain sentimental ascertainment: we don’t necessarily have to return to a similar utopia. Life in our happy valley was pretty locked down before it became mandatory fashionable, but let’s not forget that a lot of its personal attraction is strongly rooted in constant comparison to our many worldly travels together. That’s what settled us here.
The abundantly flowering Wisteria vine at a friends house made me remember it also signifies our own expanding consciousness. This voracious grower has the ability to spread out over acres, spiraling out into impressive expanses. Driving back home, a mere twenty minutes, I reproached myself for not bringing a souvenir.
