Equilibriums

The plans for what's next begin to take shape as the 40th looms into view. 

(A sentence that has stayed on the screen for the better part of a day...  and which may lead to an aborted post soon as KS arrives for an overcast but dry sail...)

The pictorial map and penguin card has been expressed overnight, at a much higher cost/speed than would have been sanctioned, but potentially hilarious in that it may be opened as early as tonight.  We shall see, and report anon.  The trip was a worthy one and I see the path forward through to this time next year, and then who knows?

What of the plans?  The MFA combined with freedom of movement, either a shack or nothing for a year or two as the globe is traversed at a snail's pace, in line with the Europa movements but under your own set itinerary. 

It checks all the boxes.  Excuse to run, health coverage, new contacts, and an opening to randomness free of the office environment.  A year from now, so time to fully prepare, start saving and making the necessary arrangements.

I write this aware of the irony that posts this time last year contemplated the same plan in place for today, and the Tibet word doc that remains on the desktop was drafted with this fall in mind.  No matter.  Taking the extra year was always an option, an extra bit of funding before the early retirement.  Heh.  I wonder next year, if these words will be seen as foolish or prescient...  Only way to know is to see the days through.

The Kids' Life

The dog days of summer continue, as the road is hit randomly for yet another weekend away.  This time out of country, toward East Walnut Street's epicenter and some musical hijinks.  

How long ago the reveries of the Europa seem, when you imagined how such weekends could be done in praxis.  Now two trips, home and away, have come and gone, and magically the goal of an equilibrium seems firmly established.  There is a hint of jealousy that remains, and yet is moderated by the certain knowledge that everything is exactly where it needs to be (thanks, Mount Joy).  

Maybe you can dip in and out of that type of life without becoming immersed in it or solely devoted to it, with this new perspective.  Just need to get over that toddler obsession of "mine".  You can see about that rich one year relationship spanning thirty years, or even just three.  Who can say?  I think I see now how it might work, and what it can teach you, and how it could be written.  The survivor news too good upon the return, to act as a bridge from the giddiness of this full moon to the future.  Could it even open the door to Fiji?  Heh.  Imagine.

Otherwise this soon-to-break heat wave means a return to order.  At work, at home, health-wise, etc.  Always the dreams and yet so difficult to execute for prolonged periods.  The Southern Cross will get her exercise this week and next, and then London and Venezia are there to look forward to before the onset of winter, and the last hurrah of the Energy Law class.  From 2010 to 2018 a good run, but the 40th year brings in its new horizons...     

Stitches in Time

What were the odds of this outcome?  I might have figured someone from the celebrations might have ended up here, my least favourite place in Bridgewater.  Odds were high on this being the one!  Pretty stellar service though, always impressed, and lucky on the timing, to see it all.  This fly-tieing Frederictonian, 13 years of practice with two teenage daughters.   The stories of the likely swelling and the number of stitches freaking her out, but such a relief it seems this is it, and that perhaps it serves as a precursor to the necessary discussions about the stress relief.  As Mom reads into the comments the difficulties of his marriage.  Bedside manner as confessional?  I love the Shakespearean and Starfleet insignia references, but aimed for me rather than her it seems.

...

22 dissolvable, it turns out in the end.  A hard skull.  Conversations begun, too, but the options are so hard, the habits so ingrained.  The expectations, the worries.  How it will play out, who knows.  But the randomness of the chance of this path tonight, so absurd.  Where will it lead?  The fall-out, recriminations, comments, tensions.

If only I had left it, too.  Perhaps it would have played out quite differently.  Hard not to feel responsible as a cog in the machinery, inserted to assist just as it becomes the cause of the breakdown.    Oh my.  Sleep.  As I think of that song by the girl who sang Flamenco for Gotd.  This is a marriage.

Going Slow

Have waited most of the day with this window open and the text box blank, as the fog and misty rain falls outside.  What to write on another wasted day.  An hour or two of nothing much.  Another cold sore annoyance, although the timing a week before a boat trip and some flights may prove a blessing.

Flipping through the archives, the themes of boredom and ennui ever recurring at this time of year.  Last Friday saw a last minute reconnaissance mission to Brier for the whales, who toyed with you in breaching along the shore, and the closed-all-year Spouter Inn evoking memories of old.  The idea of working as a slave to the tourist in search of wifi and quick service seemed unappealing, even amidst the outrageous weather at whale of a time.  A recovery after a brilliant day out on the SC with Mr. and Mrs. Bear.  A sound sleep in the tent, and the drive back past the school cafe (including theft of the slow manifesto) leaving the mind with time to ponder.

It was the question on the Europa - MFA or Ahab or both?  The whale memorabilia continuing to haunt, as designed, but there is a new sense that you need not rush a commercial enterprise before the next bit of proper gallivanting.  I have learned from that sail the need not to feel as entrapped.  But the desire for extended voyages remains.  The MFA may offer the best cover under which to do it.

Or so goes the sentiment today, as S brings up fond memories of Ventura WWF banter and you consider the ridiculousness of John Cleese selling tickets for a screening of Monty Python with him in Halifax next May.  Heh.  Instead of Ondajjie's reading, I am off to the public library to catch some of the MFA instructors and get another sense of that crowd.  Will you be in that class a year from now?  Surely the odds at the moment are better than even money in favour...

They Had Grown Tired...

What a beautiful idea, and tragic end to the story of the simple cyclists, senselessly run down on their bikes in Tajikstan.  Dreams ended, powerful ideals extinguished, the worst case scenario for such a trip.

Their sentiment of office fatigue - and the excitement of escape - well understood in these quarters.  Time sheets and password changes.  The colour beige.  Heh.  A need to do something inspiring before it is too late.  (It grows ever so late.  Reminders all around.)

In that spirit, spontaneous decision made to see some whales on Friday this morning as part of a reconnaissance mission while the car's fuel sensor was being fixed.  With all the whale paraphernalia acquired since last October, it would be a shame not to see that dream through for next year.  This afternoon to be spent looking into the foundations of a business plan, to be filled in with a closer assessment of the region "sur place" 48 hours from now.  White collar dreams, mocked Omer in response to the plan.  Such an overwhelming sense through this lull period, that you need to simply do it.  Or at least something tied to that place.

Venice hotel also booked this week.  After pouring over the options I think you have happened upon the right choice.  Whether or not you get the benefit of both nights (and/or can attend the festival of the Most on Erasmo) remains to be seen, but I have confidence at least in the night of the 6th working out.  Hopefully enough time for the start of planning for 2019, pre-Freeport?  As always, I wonder so.

More after the tour of the Freeport Safe Zone (haha), drive to the cottage on Saturday, and the season opener at City from Boston Pizza Bridgewater...