Time flies.
Like a bird drunk on the fumes of toxic waste. Has it really been a month since I wrote on here? An eternity seems to have gone by. The month of April thus far has been busy - the return from Cougar Salvo in Kamloops was hiding strep throat and I am still trying to recover from an irritated gorge. The piles of unwashed pots and dishes are undoubtedly conspiring against my desire to heal. To whit they are rapidly growing mile-high towers of mold and some fibrous sponge akin to the body-snatching virus in some B-movie.
I sit on the eve of what might just be a last great adventure, or if any of the last few trips have proven themselves to be - a time to ponder that expectations greatly outweigh the actualities if you don't do anything beyond yourself.
I leave for Holland on Friday and my travels will keep me away from home until the 26th of May. Who knows what I will find on my travels and my soujourn out into the land of the polder and the Orange-clad, cheese-loving, bicycle-friendly, gezelligheit-ness Dutch. Then again, I am also planning on going over to London and meeting up with brother Adrian and possibly my cousin Jerome, and Sally Luff.
Who knows what the tide could bring on its next inexorable roll towards the deserted shore of my life? I look forward to it with a wan smile of someone who knows that there is more out there for me to learn, to see, to touch, to taste, to experience, and to help.
Here I go. Wish me luck and pray that my kilt doesn't fall away during a parade.
posted by His Gordness @ 3:27 a.m.
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