The Way of the Tall Horse

Home.  After extraordinary pictures and wilderness encounters and relaxation at the Royal.  Such a timeless place of escape I am already looking forward to the return in one year.  Much to be done.  Work continues ticking along, the appointments, the potential bachelor and wedding celebrations, the idea of a new home and neighbourhood, the return at last to a St. Pat's at the Old Triangle, re-enrollment at King's with an entirely new writing plan, and another final spin out of the old Southern Cross.

Annoying new variants interrupting planned participation in work events, but nothing to be done.  Fortunate to have escaped just ahead of new restrictions and anxiety, back to the comfort of the clean condo and fresh healthy groceries.

Off for another blood collection in advance of Rittenburg.  Let us hope the vitamins and electrifying iron have been up to the job.  More, as always, anon.

Why Not Today?

The t-shirt at the old Baobab lookout says it all.  The extraordinarily high-priced gin options continue at Shoprite, and so the cheap choice with the Pink Tonic it is.  Quinine required.  Thunder rolling along above the Zambezi.  Wife enjoying the saxophone and self-spa treatment as we laze away the afternoon.  I’m sure they have placed us in the exact same room as Valentine’s Day.  Incredible really.  After a perfect visit to the village, views of the water pump and church benches, and thus inspiration to start the NGO.  Just need the name, and website, and off the project goes.

Tomorrow morning requires the compliance filing be addressed, and so it seems the appeal will be run given colleague enthusiasm.  All of which runs to the benefit of the FML, so what odds?  The paper prices are up and everyone is going green and the child-to-come needs providing for.  

More thunder amid the soft rains.  What will we see with Chiluba tomorrow?  Wait and see.

In 9 Years, Nothing’s Changed (?)

So the comment tonight re: the Zambia dial-in.  What a beautiful paper anniversary, back in the same locale as the wedding with the “godfather” and Willard of the t-bone to go technique.  When and where is he eating that and those bread rolls?

Tough day yesterday, but striving to be better.  Less irritable, more patient. Let’s never bring up the tantrum following the proflight customer complaint again.

Arrived tonight in a far better mood (with remembrances of our old cab driver now Mr. Diana viral sensation) to a beautiful sunset and finished with the sounds of croaking wildlife under the full moon.  It is such a blessed life. Thankful for the wake-up despite the frustration at not joining on time as if you were home.  Such is the stuff of memories.  The discussion of Canadian weddings makes that date at Hatfield all the more likely.  

Friday tomorrow.  Batoka tomorrow.  Then the return to the Royal Livingstone.  We are such stuff as dreams are made on.  I’m glad we brought the Shakes.

Some things change, some don’t.  In Zambia, yes.  But with pregnant wife on the date of the one year wedding anniversary?   If you had told me that upon waking up from the fog of the Amitabh sail, I would have found it both hard to believe and inescapably true.  Good change.

Can I Bring One Lady?

The eldest shot down, opening the floodgates.  Classic for all to spill out in such a fashion, and in time to avoid any frustrations erupting on the anniversary day.  Safe and smooth trajectory and soft landing here, with the simple issue being that I seem unable to sleep.  Strange sensations.  But so the days before settling back in Canada unfold.  Sandy’s to Batoka to an encounter with Chiluba at the Royal. The days of travel shall soon be over for awhile.  Journeys end in lovers meeting, as surely JC should sing to a crowd of 150 next August 5th.  We shall see.

Rosemary

For remembrance.  Memories of last month’s Hamlets.  Quite incredible it has been that long since M’s departure.  The apartment cleaned, errands run, work mostly moved along, although some challenges to come in juggling things overseas.  Flying through a burgeoning civil war not ideal either.  All will work out, he thinks, from this familiar Tim Horton’s corner.  The anticipation and joy and love that comes from a relationship worth it all, the finding of your life story within all the options.  The building toward the crescendo, following your own path.

Hatfield remains an option for an August Friday, more on that anon.  Wolfville too, as the Mineville property goes pending and you wait to see the amount over asking.  Lots to do but Christmas will come quick, and 2022 has all the makings of another banner year of firsts.  Make it so.  

Off to Sullivan’s to remember, and also dream ahead.

Hatfield?

Will call tomorrow.  The pre-cleaning is done for Molly, the Grinder does it again.  Nerves about losing Nyami again, but it was in the laundry and safely back around the neck.  Looking forward to seeing the price of Candy Mountain, never the place, especially after the failure to disclose the undersized boiler.  I like the purple Coldwell idea.  Next month will show.  

First, across the seas.  A timely reunion and then a Livingstone retreat for the memories.  On the return, a check in on wedding venues and and rural homes.  Can the valley be the one?  I like that willow and the inside, M will know how to handle the rest…. 

Fingers crossed for Pal’s Deanship, Ethiopia, Canada’s efforts at qualifying, and the rest of the madness of this month.  I see it working, let’s see it through to “go-time” as JDobson said.  Much to look forward to.  In terms of celebrations, call Hatfield tomorrow, and pray 3 months is enough of a gap.

The Eve of Mineville

Throw back the clocks for an extra hour of sleep before the drive to Candy Mountain.  Shall you bid?  Is there destiny laden here?  The ticking of boxes, decisions of the most lasting repercussions, imagining the future.  This house appeared, and the timing aligns, and calls in some senses as a beauty, my kind of large spaces, she says…

Roll the dice and see, what shall the saved man say to the offer if made?  What is the right number, 818?  Haha, so much to laugh about and imagine.

The Card Arrives…

Don’t quite believe it.  The end of the process, a year on from Decision 2020 and the Lubono and wedding and honeymoon and February return and TRV and etc etc.  Thankful to be able to enjoy this next exodus without worrying about leaving the two behind.  Such a magical year full of stress/vertigo, conflicting emotions, and ultimate success.

Next we see what happens.  Terribly disappointing that the housing market appears so wonky, but the right idea should present itself as all the rest.  We wait to see it.