'Heading west' was the message I posted on facebook yesterday morning, then I left.
Out in the fields, watching these guys work, I surely wished that I hadn't worn those girly-shoes. My hiking boots were back in the car but it was okay, we didn't have to run ... not once.
and sometimes we would dance in the stone street
sometimes I would put my head on his shoulder
and wonder what sadness there was in the world
when the sun could be so warm
when the island flowers could smell so summer strong
when people could dance with such grace
when my heart had a thousand chances left
Amy Turn Sharp, extract from #82 her series, a poem a day for a year.
I love this woman's poetry. There have been so many treasures so far. I'm looking forward to spending a year reading her.
The garden toads are back in our tiny garden without a pond. They were out sunning themselves today ... in 16 celsius of glorious Spring sunshine.
I have people in my life that I have loved and adored just about forever ...
I met my friend Fiona when we were 13, first year in High School. She was a Fairfield girl ... a bus girl, and I lived just down the road from the school. We were both a bit nervous about that first year at this enormous high school and, I was so lucky, we became friends.
I would drag her home for lunch at my place sometimes. Back then, she was a Cadbury's Peppy Chew addict, and introduced me to the whole range ... caramel and, I think, spearmint chews too. They were great days though. Phone conversations and laughter in class.
And then ... she couldn't shake me off. Where ever I've wandered and lived since then, the story of my friend Fiona usually comes up. She remains the friend I would I most like to be like when I grow up.
Later, after quite some moves around the country as my first husband climbed his career ladder, I arrived at Base Woodbourne, as an officer's wife. Oh I was wide-eyed back then, in those days on the base, as I learned the etiquette of that military life there.
Again, I met an amazing woman who went on to become another one of the big loves in my life.
Christine had been an officer's wife for a while by then. and she contacted me, even before I arrived on base. Her husband, the lovely Peter, had recruited my husband as an education officer. He thought I might need some support as Chris went off to train for 6 months.
We had so much fun there on the base. I remember a million cups of tea in her sun-filled kitchen, her fabulous baking, the treasures she sewed, and much laughter. We soon had a gang of like-minded women who did things like taking me off to the secondhand shop in town, on a sherry glass hunting expedition. We never really took anything really seriously though.
Actually, we 4 almost drowned in the base swimming pool one day. We got the giggles at the deep end. It was worrisome ... trying to stop laughing long enough to reach one of the sides. We made it.
I can't remember who moved first. We only did 4 years on that base, surrounded by some of New Zealand's top wineries ... Cloudy Bay, Alan Scott and Montana, to name a few. I didn't drink wine back then. I was happy to be 'the driver'. But Christine and I stayed in touch.
I spent some time with them on the base at Ohakea. They spent some time with us down in Fiordland.
I'm rarely on skype but today, while catching up with Christine and Peter, Fiona and Barry came online and I went from an hour with one much-loved friend, straight into an hour with another much-loved friend.
I'm exhausted. It was amazing. We all laughed often, caught up on news ... my cup runneth over. It's 10.42am and here I am, exhausted.
We have made plans for when Gert and I go home in December. Small plans, to be enlarged upon when I have our dates. But expect to laugh a lot, talk more and probably, when I see everyone again ... I think there will be tears.
Forza 2012!
I'm sorry if you have me on google reader ...or anything else that reports when I post something new.
I'm slowly moving all of my blog posts from the old website to the new. It has to be done manually, as Expression Engine and Squarespace are two of a handful who won't 'talk' with each other.
And I have to change the datestamp on each post. Sometimes, if I forget, the reloaded post ends up as the most recent post. I realise, and race over to correctly datestamp it and voila, it disappears from here.
Let it be done soon.
I'm in my garden in Finistère filling out change-of-address cards. It's an afternoon at the beginning of September 2000, a soft haze over the countryside. The Atlantic is breathing tides and seaweed, the reassuring sound of the warning buoy like an owl.
I live in Finistère because I've moved here. It wasn't by chance; for a woman of experience there's no such thing as chance.
Sleep with open eyes and you shall find.
... In the same way that there's a partner for every person, there's a place. All you have to do is find your own among the billions that belong to other people, you have to be awake, you have to choose.
Extract from The Price of Water in Finistère by Bodil Malmsten.
Who could resist a book with an opening like that ...
I'm a reader who loves to fall in love with the opening paragraph. I found this book today, by chance, in my favourite secondhand bookshop here in Belgium. And fell in love.
I began reading it while waiting for the metro, read it as we slid through the underground on Tram 5, and will read it whenever I have a moment spare.
It's beautiful so far.