It occurred to me that it's essentially a year ago that Twinkle died. It was a Saturday; today's a Monday. In terms of how it fits together, it was effectively a year ago that I sat here in this cube in this office for the first time, alone, before anyone else was here, taking the first couple of hours setting up all my stuff, in the wake of having just last Twinkle so suddenly. I still have a photo of her right here, a couple feet in front of my face, staring out at me. Strangely, nothing of Max. But I've been over how much easier it's seemed to make my peace with his passing than with hers; I won't labour the point.
Well, as far as the weekend that just went by goes, Saturday was spent helping Bolt move into his new place a little further west. It's in a nice neighbourhood in Oakville, as is the place he's currently living. The difference is this new place is his; the old place is his mother's. The kids are selling it because she's now in a home with dementia. I'm pretty sore from it all, and kind of jealous. I like where I live, and I like not having to mow and shovel all the time, but I miss being able to spread out, have storage space, have some options about what to do with several rooms. Not to mention being well-heeled enough to afford more. On the other hand, it took me a long time just to manage this, and not everyone is so fortunate. The grass is forever greener. Sometimes I need to remind myself that at least have some grass. Metaphorically speaking. :)
Yesterday the temperature was supposed to hit the 20s, which would be in the 70s Fahrenheit, and I'd planned to take one last hike meeting nature on its own terms, kicking through the leaves up an old abandoned concession road I love. Ah, but I talked myself out of it. Figured after the week we had and the rain the soil would be uncomfortably cool, and that the wind and moisture would probably make even the milder air less than enjoyable. I went out to pick up a few things about 3 o'clock and immediately regretted my timidity. It was verging on balmy, and I let myself miss it. Won't be a chance like that again till at least April, probably. Oh, well. The one that got away. :)
Just as a complete aside, largely because of a comment a friend made, I've actually wound up catching old episodes of Supermanionation shows by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. Two of my friends both commented that Captain Scarlet was remarkable for its casual violence, and having just watched the first episode, I'm impressed. It's jaw-droppingly cavalier in the willingness of the writers and the characters to have things blow up real good. What did we need Team America World Police for? :)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
I *did* get out, though not barefooted, on Saturday, in 75-degree weather. I explored the old Dixie Highway in southern Indiana with an old road-tripping friend. Lots of old-alignmenty goodness. Photos to follow.
Hope you've got a shot or two in that cube of the country roads and bridges whose solitary beauty you capture so well, and that you like the work you're doing there. The mountains I see from my office are now powdered even at the lower elevations where I hiked this past summer, but none in the valley so far. Warm weather is predicted for us later this week, though. I'll take your weekend experience to heart and not let this one get away. As for the greener grass, you might like the story by Lev Tolstoy called
BTW--the superimposed shot of the Flindon Road bridge on the present site is just eerie. I, too, enjoy poring over old photographs, whether they be in published collections or in shoeboxes. They evoke the ineffable longing of nostalgia, an emotion both painful and pleasant.
Hi, Jim, yeah... I'm looking forward to seeing that. I need to follow up on some of my old roads again, too. :)
Hey, Bridgewater, I think the blog swallowed your story title. :)
The weather here looks to be in the lower teens Celsius on the weekend; certainly amenable to more conventional hiking. I keep thinking I need to get back to Sixteen Mile Creek and do the closing shots for the years-long project of the replacement of the Dundas Street bridge(s) over the hollow. Such an interesting story that I'd like to put it all together. The story won't really be done, though, till they get Lions Valley Park back in order at the foot of the new bridges, though.
I'm gratified you enjoyed the Flindon Road superimposed shot... complete serendipity that two shots taken blind of each other happen to line up so well. Wouldn't have been too hard to go back and get a matching shot, of course, but the magic comes from not having to in the first place. :)
Story title: How Much Land Does a Man Need?
Post a Comment