I'm leaving on yet another jetplane.
Although it's early morning here, in New York, it's still middle of the night, and by tonight, when I land in the early evening, my body will say it's midnight... thus doing the entire jetlag thing. My body will be tired, I'll have baggage that weighs more than when I arrived, and my heart will be sore.
It's been a run about few months; going from home to Colorado to be with Godmother (who is gaining weight and working towards chemo) to home for a day and a half to flying here. We've lived in the decorated house from hell, The Very, that has had one positive impact; all of us love beige now, embrace it with a passion.. I may never wear colour again. Packing, boxing, loading the small van and the car and moving into Home, and spending the last few weeks unpacking here, setting up Loo and the girls (I should say young women, they will always be the girls in my heart) in their new home, after all the changes of the last year.
Last night the Girls were here, AC, Limey, Candy, Loo and I... we had a nice curry to end my long stay... then tea, gossip, wine. I've been pulled into that lovely group of women, who all come together and love and respect each other. It's the kind of group you always hope for as a woman, as an adult.. but, more so, as a woman. Their husbands are all great mates, too, which adds to gatherings. There are others involved, these are the main core. They take holidays together, eat together, do holiday time together... it is so foreign to me, who has good friends, but, never a group such as this. I consider myself fortunate they let me hang on the peripheral edge, always opening up when I arrive, acting as if I've only been gone a week or so, accepting me as one of their own... I'm lucky with that. Very lucky. They do amazing work in Kenya, this group of women, supporting a village and building a school, helping students there get an education, having water piped in, if you are interested in donating, drop me an email, I'll send you the link.
Meeting Ev, Loo's fiance, a wonderful, tall, sweet, tall, funny, tall, dear, tall man. The deep love they have for each other is apparent when they look at each other, and the atmosphere in the house, with his easy going ways, is such a change from the old ways. He loves Loo, and the family package she brings to the table. Frank will leave our sides for one person; Ev.
HB makes me laugh almost as much as The Investment. She has that same droll, dry way about her. We watch comedians I've never heard of before, ones I'd never think to watch without her guidance, and I laugh along with her, even though she knows most of the routines by heart. She is one of the smartest people I know, and trudges off to her huge school in the country every morning, six days a week, to study her 'A' levels (I do not understand this school system, however, the more I hear, the more it makes sense). We celebrated her birthday by going to a film, all of us, giving us one more of those silly things to say that all of us repeat, that will bind us together for a long time when one of us says it.... I like things like that. HB is quick, quiet, quirky, loving. I'll miss her. When out shopping with her Mum last week, they passed a woman with an American accent... she turned to Loo and said, "We have one of those at home." She calls me The American. It's a nickname she says with love.
MB has brought that Gaggle of Girls in my life... of those, MP is dearest. We all play gin, and laugh. Loo and I have created the next generation of gin players. MP looked at the score, knowing that when Loo is ahead of me by 1000 points, we start over again. She has been trouncing me quite regularly over the last few days...and with the girls just joining the never ending game, they are far behind our scores. Her cheery voice said, "Oh, right... at this rate, it should only take a few hands for that to happen, and we'll all be equal!" Gee, thanks. MB is at that growing stage, where she is gaining her height...she takes after her mum and her Grandad and will be a willowy blonde, with those clear blue eyes. She smiles, and her whole face glows. She's fierce in her loyalty, stubborn in her position, and will not change who she is to please anyone. I'm not saying she won't compromise, I'm saying she knows who she is as a person, and she's good with that... something to be said for that kind of confidence. She and MP are joined at the hip, good mates, the kind you can see being friends for life. I hope that happens. MB is realising she has to fix her sights on her future, and is changing how she's going about life... she's becoming a young woman.
I'm happy to sit and watch both of them, and see how they turn out... with the guidance they've had, it won't be surprising to see they will be... lovely.
Except for the mouth MB has when she's trash talking at gin.
Then, there is my Loo.
I can't do that today. Too close, too near being sad... tomorrow, perhaps.
Our Neville Fact (which will carry on, even when I'm stateside)
Although Magnus and his wife, Phillipa, raise lovely Field Spaniels, Neville and Margaret have two Corgis. They decided to have the 'Royal Dog' because Margaret's family is descended from the ancient Stewarts (Stuarts), and wanted to show her alignment with the Royals, even though her ancestor was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Usually a fairly well behaved dog, Neville and Margaret lavish all their attention on Pharos and Vulcan, thus turning them into insufferable creatures who nip at the grandchildren and wee everywhere. They hump the legs of anyone who comes over to visit, to the great amusement of Neville and Margaret who laugh while shouting, "Oh, you naughty boys!" Margaret has made them little pillows to sleep on, which they ignore, choosing instead to sleep on her antique sofa instead. They wear matching sweaters that coordinate beautifully with the ones Neville and Margaret own, allowing them to look quite smart when they go walkies. Unfortunately, that is where smart ends, as Pharos and Vulcan go separate ways, wrapping around Neville and Margaret's legs, barking and yapping at every thing they see. They terrify every dog and child they meet. They like to poo under the beds where Margaret can't reach it, and will only eat free range chicken that's been boiled and chopped up, then mixed up with cooked brown rice which has been cooled to room temperature, served in their matching bowls, and placed next to the cooker. Both dogs have gas that will peel wallpaper. This usually manifests itself when they are being fed tidbits from the table as they sit on 'Mumsy' or 'Daddsy's laps during family meals at holidays. The grandchildren must relinquish their chairs when watching telly if the dogs want them, and should they be nipped, they are asked what did they do to "Dear, dear snookiebottoms to make him want to make kibble out of the naughty things?" The grandchildren try to feed the dogs chocolate on a regular basis.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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3 comments:
Safe trip.
It is a strange realization that going "home" isn't all it is cracked up to be. Safe travels.
I love you
Miss Quin :]]
simple as that.
xoxo
MB
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