News and thoughts from afar

Another gorgeous BC morning. Rang Ma Sticker this morning for our usual familial transatlantic chat and found she had a couple of my cousins visiting. Apparently business is still fairly poor for one of them (Distribution) but they've survived. The tone of my one cousins voices spoke volumes. Although he sounded envious of our life over here, which isn't totally brilliant and carefree, but we don't do badly, he was not a happy bunny. My siblings likewise. 2009 will be a year they'd all rather forget, economically speaking.

Made a bit of a production of Saturday breakfast, as I will tomorrow. Mrs S is jetting off Eastbound shortly and leaving me to take care of the house move. Tomorrow will be the last Sunday breakfast we will share for a while. This bothers me somewhat. We've worked so closely together as a team over the past two years that the thought of our parting is quite discomforting. The bed will be too big without her for one.

Odd that. I've been alone for much of my life. No big reason, just too damned busy and preoccupied to do much dating. Unsocial hours, long commutes, that sort of thing. I got used to being a solitary male. In my home town the usual gossips' self fulfilling prophesies were applied to me, so no real social life; until the lady who was to become my wife came along. I suppose you could say we both came to one another's emotional rescue.

In a way I do miss the time for contemplation and concentration that being single brought to me, there were always so many things to do; but I don't miss the single nights. I don't miss the chill hollowness of bedtime. Your only companion an applications manual. Waking up to find the TV and lights still on, with the banality of breakfast TV itching maddeningly at your consciousness. The need to get out of the door for eighteen hours to earn a crust.

Mrs S changed all that. Now she's going away for six weeks. I am not going to be a happy camper I can tell you. All ahead Sarcasm Factor twelve. Misanthopy on full. My vorpal sword will be singing.

Fortunately the mind has a way of overpainting unpleasant experiences. Almost as if the unpleasantness in life were wounds which never really heal but simply develop a crust protecting the inflamed tissue beneath. Knocking off the scab only makes the unpleasantness livid and raw once again. Constantly 'picking' at the wound simply inflames it more. Only times ablation of memory seems to help. I've found it often takes years before truly bad memories can be looked at in the clarity of experience. You only relive the experience when a specific trigger dumps a cascade of ancient guilt / remorse / sadness on your head and you're almost back in the bad old days. You know the sort of thing; losing friends and family. The guilt of screwing up badly and having no opportunity to make it right. Stuff like that. Happens to us all.

Thus it is that I'm having trouble recalling the UK apart from the real high points. Riding empty early morning A-roads in Summer (Not possible now). Spring mornings when the blossom breaks. The heady muskiness of Maythorn in late May. The thrill of my first Shark. A Pilot Whale spouting and diving right under the boat I was on. The triangle of dirty slate of a Basking Sharks dorsal fin jutting out of the water as we puttered by. Sunny Summer days with your hat tilted over your face while the boat gently wallows on a lapping light chop. Wild Autumnal nights as the sweat boils through your body and hair after a long run. Watching the almost snakelike flight of an arrow as your bow releases a perfect shot; the recoil giving your shoulders that tiny rebounding jolt of rightness. The smell of Autumn bonfires. Fecund wet earth after summer rain. The sharpness of frost.

On the upside I'm going to go and have a look at that old PBR Catalina down at the airport with camera in hand. Send the pics off to Delcatto. Get my head down on the second book of my trilogy, finish the first draft mid January. Move house. Work. Sit on my new porch with a beer and some neighbours to enjoy the easy talk and the view of the Islands. Enjoy the quiet. Practice stalking Deer in the woods. Feel the heat of the Winter sun on my back. Smell the resinous freshness of Spruce. The crispness of new fallen snow and impossibly bright blue skies. Fill the unforgiving minute. Yeah.

Until my beloved is home in my arms I'll make busy. Good idea.