They say of life that a watched kettle never boils. Right now, my kettle is boiling. Time is moving way too fast. Cherub has been home for a whole week now. Where did it go? What did we do? Why is it travelling faster than me, faster than my mind, faster than... faster... faster...
I didn't cry at the airport. I cried when she gave me a gift. She'd put so much thought into it. I am at that time in my life when the cycle of it all is so evident, when child transitions to parent and parent to child. With all its joys and sorrows, it is a profound moment.
Dani had jetlag, so slept late on Monday. It is not only the seven hour time difference and the change in longitude. It is also travelling from below zero temperatures into the hot mallaise of a South African summer.
On Tuesday, I did my first interview with a U3A speaker for the February meeting. This is a story all of its own. It is another of those unforgettable moments, in which Reine, in all her brilliance, managed to reduce herself to the size of a pinprick. I have to speak about her in third person, because I would never do anything quite so dumb. It involved having my car key disappear into the waste band of my bicycle pants. I will leave the rest of this story to your imagination.
I have cheated again on Project 365. I have posted some pictures of birds taken in Lakeside on Wednesday, whilst on my way to my second birding course lesson, and some pictures of a hike through Cape Point yesterday. With the kettle boiling along merrily, there simply has not been time to take pictures daily. You can find these between Serenity and On top of the mountain.
In terms of culinary skills, I have pickled a couple of bottles of onions, and have preserved my first batch of ginger.
Yesterday was another story all of its own. We went into Cape Point. The target was a walk along the beach with a lovely swim in the hot sun. I donned my bather and wore my sloppies. Pity about the wind. I exchanged sloppies for tackies when we decided against getting sand-blasted, and went up to Gif Kommetjie where one starts at the top of the mountain, walks down into the valley and then back up along the ridge to the cars.
This was the absolute worst evidence of my vertigo. Panic set in very early on. With assurance from Nancy, our hike leader that it got better along the way, I continued. It took Walter walking in front of me, and Peter walking either behind or beside me, or sitting next to me on long rocky drops to get me down that mountain. It was so bad that Walter carried my rucksack. What on earth would I do without these kind people around me?
I am torn. I very much want to carry on with these walks. Without them I would revert to being my not so little hermitty self, which, actually, I don't want. Hermithood worked for me, or so I thought, at the time that I did it. It does not work for me now. Yet... and this is the crunch... if I carry on doing this, I know full well that I am taking advantage of some of the very best quality of kindness that has been demonstrated to me in my entire life. People have said to me that it is ok, that it is about give and take. And maybe this is my turn to accept the generosity of others. There is truth in that. I have other skills in which I am strong. And I am attempting to share these.
What to do? What to do? I am going to have to think very carefully about this. I do not want to abuse others, but I want to carry on being part of this incredibly beautiful journey that has brought me so much joy.
Ok, so this was a moment of introspection in the roiling turmoil of my life at the moment. Dani is visiting a friend. I need to go rescue my laptop which is in intensive care, pop off down to the A P Jones sale and drool over some crocs that I really, really want and then decide whether to either buy them or not. And then, if I can persuade my aching knees to bend to the will of my unkempt garden, then I might just do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment