This is the state of our move ... enveloping emptiness all around!
Of course, the emptiness of these spaces fills up others - my recycling bin, the trash can, my car, our packing crates ... it's a very messy business.
This is the state of our move ... enveloping emptiness all around!
The process of relocating to another country (again), stirs up many memories and so much nostalgia, especially when you start sorting through old photos and such ... So please forgive my indulgence here as I share this little "booklet" I created to prepare my then 2.5 year old and 11 month old for the journey from South Africa to the U.S. 32 years ago. Dale was already in the U.S., having started his job, found us an apartment, and bought a new car, so we flew across to reunite with him. I read the 'book' before, and during, the journey to help prepare them (my 2.5 year old particularly) for the changes and procedures that we'd have to endure along the way. I kept it!
Lucy was in the baby sling (as seen in most drawings) and Linus walked and held my hand, while cuddling his favorite stuffed animal, Pookie. Notice in my drawing that I was naïve enough to think I'd be able to sit back and read a book during our layover! My little toddler didn't sleep at all and ended up having a meltdown on the last leg of the journey to Boston. A very kind passenger offered to hold my sleeping infant so that I could deal with my toddler's crisis. How thoughtful!
As it turns out, I was off by a whole day on the anticipated arrival date, but thankfully Dale realized it himself and was waiting for us at the airport a day earlier than expected. Phew! Thank goodness for analytical people! We all burst into tears at being together again, and Lucy did the honors of christening our first new car by throwing up on the way home! All in all, a very memorable journey.
Here's the story, presented in 2 columns, each row to be read from left to right (I forgot to number them!)
Here's an interesting perspective from the confessional poet, Sylvia Plath:
"Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."
To me, it's similar to the idiom "the more you have, the more you WANT," yet it goes further by suggesting that more won't fill the hollowness we might feel. The desire to want and have things is not satisfied by MORE, because you likely already have everything you need and don't realize that having things is NOT what satisfies or makes a good life. The emptiness inside doesn't go away by acquiring more things to fill that space.
Okay, so ice formations don't last forever, but I hope that by having captured its fragility here, it will be stored for posterity, to be appreciated at any time (especially seeing as I won't be spending another winter in New England).
The thin, delicate edges are beautifully rounded, like icy fern leaves
We still have a lot of snow in our yard, but the light is stronger and longer and warmer already ...
Ah, me! For our Transfer of Residence form, we have to inventory all that we want to bring into our new country - how much crockery, cutlery, toiletries, stationery, computers, tools, chairs, rugs etc to show we're taking only enough for a household, and are not importing things to sell. Ugh, what a job - it obviously forces us to make decisions, sort and evaluate quicker, but do I really need to count how many knives, forks, spoons and mugs I have? Should I multiply each fork by 4, and cake forks by 3 since they have a different number of tines? Okay, so I'm being facetious, but really! I guess I should simply say, 2 x 12 place settings or some such.
How many screws, bolts, pictures, or towels? Needles, nuts and nails? How many pens and pencils? Come on! These are parts of the re-locating process one doesn't anticipate - it's tedious and time-consuming.
We've scheduled the container company to come and collect our house contents during the week of April 20, so we're working furiously towards that goal.
Wow, fascinating observations! Just had to share from the Phys Org site
Some leftover wintergreen candy canes, unwanted. I crushed them ...
Our expedition this week involved a drive to Boston, a short ride on the T, a walk in frigid winds channeling through city streets, and fingerprinting for Dale's evisa for the U.K. (he's hoping they'll let him live there with me!). Now we have to sit and wait for 30 business days to hear if they'll accept him being sponsored by me.
Gemini helped us figure out the best way to get into the city from Maine, without getting stuck in traffic - we parked at the Wellington T station (Orange Line) in Medford, then traveled stress-free to our destination. We felt like we were back in the 1st world - it was great having access to the T with just a tap of our credit cards. Very slick.
This one ended up more as a fruit bowl shape than a globe, because it's overnight placement meant its lower half was partly covered by snow, stopping the water from freezing (it's been inverted in this pic)
The structures of formation inside were quite intriguing
What makes these particular pieces of snow and ice hang on the way they have? Everything around them is doing something else - I guess they're marching to the tune of a different drummer!
Busy! The house is being picked over, and sorted ...
Is this the new dieting mantra?
"The secret of happiness is not in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less"
Haruki Murakami, known for dreamlike atmospheres in his literary work, said “No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.”
So I'll still be being myself in Wales, just in case you were wondering ... but maybe I'll also be a bit more naturally and consistently cheerful than here in the below zero wasteland of Maine. I'm so awfully tired of the cold.
In the meanwhile, I try hard to appreciate the beauty of a rose pink morning in achingly cold conditions.
We're loosely planning our departure for May 1, so we have something a little more concrete to work with, though unlike concrete, it isn't firm...We were surprised to see the previous owners had left this lush carpet behind in our living room. It looks rather fuddy-duddy to me (and is a color that I'm not enamored with), but it feels so exquisitely deep and soft that I thought I might be able to find a way to live with it. And then last week, we discovered why it had been left there. We rolled up the carpet and found an underlay, feeling a little squishy, taped to the floor all around the edges. Of course, speculation was rife as to whether that was where the bodies were kept (!), but ...
We had 3 ring-necked pheasants (introduced from Asia in the 11th century) pottering about in our Welsh garden one day, one of which was melanistic, a rare, dark coloration. Dale was able to get a lovely pic of a regular one from our living room.
