Stalled . TKG Take Ten . Travel
Leaving is such sweet sorrow? That never ending sorrow of Good Bye. And now I am stalled. Covid has arrived in the house. So after all that; I will unpack my bag for another few days!
The most ruthless part of coming home to see my family is the good bye then another goodbye then another goodbye when I leave again. I say ruthless because I have to be fast with my goodbye, band-aid ripping fast, or I end up a puddle of tears on the door step. From this point on I say hullo and then fast goodbyes all the way up the island. I guess we all do in our daily lives. But when your people are so far away it feels heavier.
Depart with a wistful embrace. An ache. A knowledge of the ever - changing landscape. But taking all these delicious sounds with us. Until we don’t.
Until a day like today when a spanner is thrown into the works. A sick child. A positive covid test for him. And though I am well. I wait. Just as I was prepared to leave, I wait.
I start thinking about it early. Leaving. The leaving. Preparing my body. Mentally talking myself back into a shell. And usually shedding garments into boxes stored for my return. I go lighter and lighter as I move across the world. Leaving stuff behind. By the time I get back to the farm I am floating like Mary Poppins with her carpet bag and an umbrella.
I have looked at this phenomenon (phenomenon? is that the right word? Behaviour? Maybe behaviour is better). I have looked at this behaviour of shedding my clothes and belongings down to bare necessities as I travel homeward. It is a hard behaviour to fight. It happens without planning, I do it every time I travel anywhere and I do wonder about it. I set out with a stuffed cabin bag and a backpack and a crossover and by the time I return the back pack and the crossover are empty and traveling inside the cabin bag.
The friend I visited the other day called to say I left my cashmere scarf at her house. Give it to a homeless person, I said. Though there are not a lot of people sleeping rough on the streets of Wellington. Maybe 50. But I shed that scarf in a minute. Coats come next. Hoodies. Hats. Socks. All left behind in boxes and drawers.
Ah well.
Have a gorgeous morning/afternoon/evening!
Celi
Pop in here for the weekday blog posts at thekitchensgarden.com since 2011.
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Disappointment must be in our DNA, it is ubiquitous. I'm sorry your long-awaited and planned trip home has hit walls (not snags, walls!) So hard to accept. It's so hard to be grateful for what we doooooo have.
I'm on my way out the door to board a plane for London and then head down to Wells but I wanted to quickly tell you how sorry I am about this. I know you are so disappointed. Fingers crossed the devil virus doesn't get you.