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so I made my way to the terrace bar to contemplate my experiences and decide what to do next, Was there more to Bilbao ? or had I had enough .€8 for a beer and three tapas seemed excellent value compared to the work inside the museum and the tapas were a work of art- but the aesthetics mean't they were not too good to eat I decided after some contemplation.
As I looked across from my table I saw this - and realised it had all been too much for some and the museum had it's dark side - art has it’s casualties !
I was thankful I was not one of them ! at least I did't think so.
Week Three:
You know all those things that you used to do as a child, yeah you remember them. Don't be sitting there pretending you just bloomed into adulthood the moment you got the arse smack welcome to the world when you popped out....or when the stork dropped you off...or when you were found in the cabbage patch.
Or when the great Lord Santa gifted you to Auntie Chris. I always thought that was a strange one. I'm not sure I want to know what Santa is doing in the deepest, darkest recesses of his workshop. I'm picturing giant test tubes and combining Elf and Reindeer DNA to produce a creature that'll make the toy then deliver it itself. Oh Santa that is clever but you'll never get rid of that belly like a bowl full of jelly palming off all your work to the genetic monstrosities that emerge from your lab.
But still after all that when you were wee and then a little bit bigger and then smaller again due to looking down the wrong end of a telescope. Yeah I still do that. But logic....yes logicalness. Logic would dictate that anything you could do as a child you can do even better as an adult with all your adulty mental capabilities peaking with an IQ of 4 and a half. Yes older, wiser, better, stronger, faster.
Of course that's what we're lead to believe. However logic...yes logic...how can I put this?
Logic is a big load of bollocks.
Yes I got my le...I want to say "leg over" but I just know someone will pounce on that and since I'm sitting here, for a change it wont be me.
I'm blaming tight jeans.
Yes that's it, if I was jeansless I'd have pounced over there like a gazelle or at the very least a nimble sloth.
Course we'll never know if that's true. For fate must not be tempted and fate was looking a bit wobbly and creaky.
Fate does that you know.
All Saints, Alburgh, Norfolk
It was one of those intensely hot days at the start of August 2018, and the cool shade of the over-bowering trees along the narrow lanes was a blessing. You don't have to get far from the Waveney and the busy A137 taking the traffic through to Lowestoft and Great Yarmouth to find peace. Here in the folding ridges to the north are secret villages linked by lonely, jinking roads. I had just come from Denton, its church hidden in the trees in a dip and reached only by a bridge and a track through the grounds of the Hall. And now it was a short distance from there to the larger village of Alburgh, and I caught my first sight of the curiously narrow top of Alburgh church tower appearing above the trees and the barley-stubbled rises. Soon, I came down into civilisation, and there was the church, its tower towards the road.
Not a spectacular church at all, but it has a special connection for me as someone I was very fond of came from here. I was back after twelve years away, but that visit was still clear in my mind, not least because of what I had felt about it then. When I'd got home, I had written: 'Coming down Norfolk by a different road, I came out into a landscape that I knew. It was early spring, and five years before I had explored the Suffolk side of the Waveney valley at the same time of year. Here in Norfolk were the same rolling, secretive meadows, the copses that seeped and spread between the fields, the quiet, scattered parishes with mere hints of village centres. Introspective hamlets, not talking to each other, the narrow lanes that connected them veering and dipping as if trying to shake them off.
At a crossroads, an old Methodist chapel sulked under the indignity of conversion. And there were wide pig farms and ancient silage heaps and faded bottle banks outside the village hall. No commuters here, no holiday cottages or weekend homes. Everyone except me was here because they had to be. This was where they lived, where they worked. They were the modern equivalents of the blacksmith, the carter, the wheelwright. The Waveney valley is the heart of rural East Anglia, perhaps the last truly insular place in the south-east of England. I was glad to be here.
Alburgh is not a place I have ever thought of often. But now, in the crisp air, I stood in the graveyard and looked across the country at the scattered village and its setting. Beyond the houses was the ancient field pattern, the beech trees on the ridge and the rooks wheeling above them. I thought of a song of the early eighties, Pete Wylie's Story of the Blues, and his declaiming, towards the end, the words of Kerouac's Sal Paradise: the city intellectuals of the world are divorced from the folk-body blood of the land, and are just rootless fools. I had been born in a place like this, tiny and remote in the Cambridgeshire fens, a world away from now in the 1960s. But we moved to Cambridge when I was two, and I had lived in urban areas ever since. I was a city intellectual, and I stood now and looked around at the land, a rootless fool.
I first heard of Alburgh more than twenty years ago. I was living unhappily in Brighton at the time, learning to teach, finding out how little I actually knew about anything. I would cycle out to the University through the stinking traffic on the Lewes road, and often arrive cold, wet and battered by the wind from the downs. At first, I knew nobody, and I spent most evenings in my attic room listening to music and feeling sorry for myself. In the bitter-sweet autumn sunshine of the weekends I would cycle around the downs, searching for old churches, repopulating the hamlets and lanes of East Sussex with characters from Hardy and Trollope.
I hardly went into town at all. Everybody seems to love Brighton, and they can't understand it when I say that I don't, but perhaps I was too often miserable there. In my memory I still associate Brighton with debt, and with the transience of being a student. And then, extraordinarily, a brief, doomed relationship, a love affair, became the one vivid thing, a brief, sweet memory of my year in that brash town.
She came from Alburgh, and at first I thought she meant Aldeburgh in Suffolk, and she said it again, Ar-brer, and showed me on a map. How narrow was the single bed we shared, how intense those brief few weeks. And she loved me more than I could possibly have loved her, for I had already met the woman who would become my wife. And so it was messy, and then it ended. But Alburgh still existed, of course, and so coming here I remembered.
If that had been all there was, then I wouldn't have thought it worth mentioning, but there was also the Kerouac quote, and I had recently gone back to the village where I was born. It was a tiny hamlet, off of the Cambridge to Ely road. My mother had been born there, my parents married in the Church there. I was baptised there, and so were my brothers.
At one time there had been three farms, a shop, a railway halt, a pub, a school, a church and a chapel. I'm not looking this up in some mid-19th century White's Directory, I remember them from the 1960s and 1970s. Now, they were nearly all gone. The farms had been built over, the pub, shop and chapel converted to houses. To stand beside the railway line, you'd need a vivid imagination to guess that the halt had even existed, as the expresses screamed through at over a hundred miles an hour.
The church and the school survived, but only because this was now a commuter village. Every morning, hundreds and hundreds of white-collar workers left their identical modern houses and piled up the A10 to Cambridge and Ely. I knew nobody there any more - my grandmother was dead, and all my relatives had left, or were lying under the frozen turf of the little cemetery. It made me sad. I thought that perhaps this was what growing old was, seeing change and resenting it. And so I liked Alburgh because it appeased my sense of loss, as if something might survive after all.'
All this then, gentle reader, was in my mind as I returned to Alburgh after twelve years away. The tower I had seen from Denston churchyard, and which bobbed its head above the copses and the rolling fields as I approached it, stands tall and proud, four-square to the road, the aisleless nave and chancel disappearing into the narrowing churchyard beyond. An imposing sight, though not a huge tower, merely large in proportion. The bulk of it is probably 14th century, but the bell stage with its enormous bell windows is later, a late medieval addition. It looks awkward, because the new building technology no longer required that the buttresses should continue up the bell stage. But the effect is unfortunate, I think, like the unnaturally small head of a large man. The buttressed pinnacles on the four corners are a more recent confection, for the very top of the tower collapsed in 1895, and what we see at the top now dates from the dawn of the new century.
The west front must have been rather grand once, with large niches flanking the window, but the canopies of the niches have gone, either vandalised by protestants or more likely worn away by the passing of the centuries. In proportion with the nave, the south porch seems bigger than it is. A 1463 bequest for the porch by the Wright family is recorded, but it now looks all of its Victorian restoration.
And so, I am afraid, does the inside of the church, a big 19th century barn with a lot of the anonymity you'd expect of this date. And yet, there are neat, local, rustic touches, and the pride of the early 20th Century parish in the boys who went off to war and never came back is still evident, great lists of names rather haunting in their context. Surprisingly, the roof is old, and it spreads impressively across the wide nave. A beautiful gilded rood screen dado is almost defiant in the face of all the restoration. There are pretty little gilded gesso saints in niches on the buttresses along the front, but I think the colour is wholly modern.
Echoing it, perhaps inspired by it, insipid apostles flank the altar and its simple reredos, a William Morris-style hanging. Turning back, the tower arch lifts tall and dreamily, light from the west window flooding the reset font below, the space becoming an echo of the wide chancel arch at the other end of the great roof. There's a pleasing harmony to the whole piece, and perhaps the Victorians should not be blamed for too much.
And so, that was all, my return to Alburgh. Just another church, and yet, like all medieval parish churches, a place full of stories, and memories, hopes, fears, regrets, embarrassments, delights, hungers, desires, agonies, beginnings and endings. Here, I sensed around me a building that was a touchstone down the long generations, and a beacon across miles and oceans. Just another church, but always and everywhere and forever. Think of the millions of people who can trace atoms of their being back to this place! Think of the lives touched by people who stepped out from this parish! And that's true of anywhere of course.
I went back outside and pottered around the graveyard. The heat was stifling after the coolness inside the church. A large dragonfly buzzed around my head and then veered away on the currents rising from the long grass. I sat down on a bench facing towards the newer headstones, and placed on the arm of the bench I found to my surprise a painted flintstone.
It had a message painted and lacquered onto it. On one side was a pink heart, and the words 'I ♥ Norfolk'. On the other side, the artist had painstakingly lettered in tiny writing 'congratulations on finding a Norfolk Rock', and asked the finder to 'either take me or rehide me'. It was extraordinary.
I slipped it into my pocket, not sure if this counted as taking it or rehiding it, possibly both, and thinking to myself that it felt like the goal of a pilgrimage. I wandered over to take a look at the more recent graves, which included a number in the last twenty years with her surname on. It is a common one in this village, but I wondered if any of them could have been her parents, who I had not known. I thought that she had probably been married in this place, if she had ever married, and so I said a silent prayer for all the people I have ever known and lost touch with, wherever they may be in the world, whether or not they remember me, or think of me, or are even reading this now.
I stood for a while, thinking of the years, and then got back in the saddle, shaking off a maudlin veil which was beginning to settle over me. I kicked off into a rush of heat lifted by the sudden breeze of my movement. A long stretch lay ahead of me now through delicious rolling back lanes with melting tarmac, zigzagging down into Harleston.
On our last day of school.
WOHOOOOO! Freedom!! :D
This is the reason why I haven't been active on flickr lately.
3 photos have the same pose, but I can't choose between them. I'm wondering if I should share these on DOA? Esprit's first major photoshoot had her nude with pearls and it was very popular..
Donation Information:
If you would like to help those affected by Wednesday's storms, the American Red Cross is accepting donations in a couple of ways.
Make out your check to "American Red Cross - Neighbors in Need", and mail it to:
American Red Cross - Neighbors in Need
300 Chase Park South
Hoover Alabama 35244
If you prefer to make a donation on-line, please click here to visit alredcross.org
-To apply for federal disaster assistance online, go to www.disasterassistance.gov
-To apply over the phone, call 1-800-621-3362 between the hours of 7am and 10 pm.
-The United Way has set up a hotline to help victims find low cost temporary housing. Call 211 for more details.
Volunteer Information:
-United Way's Hands on Birmingham - www.handsonbirmingham.org
-Volunteers in Tuscaloosa are asked to register at St. Matthias Episcopal Church on Skyland Boulevard
-Volunteers in Calhoun County must register at the Ohatchee Police Department
-Volunteers in Concord must register at the YMCA on 4th Avenue South
-Webster's Chapel leaders are looking for volunteers with vehicles who can distribute supplies to tornado victims. Volunteers should go to the Webster's Chapel Fire Station
Drop off Locations:
-Harvest Church in Northport is accepting donations for tornado survivors
-Christian Service Mission at 3600 3rd Ave South is accepting personal care items, baby supplies, and other items of basic need
-First Baptist Church Trussville is a drop off point for donations Monday through Friday 8am to 6pm
-Church of the Highlands on Grants Mill Road is accepting items of basic need
-Mt. Zion Baptist Church in Alexandria is collecting donations of bathing supplies
-Clear Branch United Methodist Church in Argo is a drop off location from 8am to 4pm Monday through Friday
-Mark Ferrier Ministries has a drop off point at 97.7 Fox FM radio in Jasper
-Alabaster First United Methodist Church accepting donations for storm survivors at Restore Building behind the church
-Holy Faith Temple is accepting donations for tornado survivors in Childersburg
-Central Baptist Church of Jasper is collecting supplies for victims in Cordova.
-McAlpine Recreation Center at 1115 Avenue F in Ensley is now a drop off point
-108 Haynes Street in Talladega is collecting donations for survivors in East Alabama
-East Birmingham Church of God on First Avenue North is collecting supplies
-All Books-A-Million stores are collecing monetary donations for the Salvation Army
-East Birmingham Church of God in Christ on 1st Avenue is collecting supplies
-Aldrich Assembly of God is collecting relief supplies at Lucky's Market in Montevallo and Sammy's Fresh Market in Wilsonville.
-Vance town community center is collecting donations for survivors in Vance
-Helena Cumberland Presbyterian Church is accepting donations all week from 9am until 6pm.
-Donations in Calhoun County may be dropped off at Eagle Point Baptist Church in Jacksonville and Word Alive Church in Coldwater.
-Jasper Jaycees are accepting donated items at the fairgrounds on Airport Road. Cash donations can be made at Bank of Walker County. Call 205-221-3928 for more info.
-Hardin's Chapel Church in Ragland is an official EMA site
-Cullman county donation locations: Eagle Point Church, Isaiah 58-Word Alive Church, Piedmont Benevolence and Salvation Army
-UAB is holding blood drives at the North Pavillion from 10am to 5pm Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday. 7am to 2pm Tuesday and Friday
Places to pick up items or get help:
-People with disabilities who have lost medication or equipment can call 205-251-2223 ext 102
-United Way has set up a hotline to help victims find low cost temporary housing - call 211
-There will be a physician on site and medicine available at Scott School through Saturday from 7am to 7pm
-Tornado survivors in Hale and Greene counties can get help at Springfield United Methodist Church in Eutaw and at Johnson Hill United Methodist Church in Union
-Toiletries and clothing are available for pick up at Plum Grove Baptist Church in Tuscaloosa. If you need transportation, call 205-292-5836
-Food and water stations for victims are set up at the Leland Shopping Center, Forest Lake Baptist relief center and Skyland Elementary.
-Aldridge Community Missionary Baptist Church in Parrish has food, formula, clothes and water for any storm survivors who need help.
-Victims in St. Clair County can get food, water and other supplies at the Shoal Creek Community Center.
-Tarps available in St. Clair County at Odenville Fire Department, Pell City Fire Station One, Reiverside Fire Department
-The Salvation Army has set up mobile canteen operations in Forest Lake, Holt High School and on 15th Street in Alberta City.
-Tornado victims in Hale and Greene Counties can get help at Springfield United Methodist Church in Eutaw and at Johnson Hill United Methodist Church in Union.
-The Masonic Lodge in Pleasant Grove is serving meals and distributing supplies to tornado victims.
-Bethel Baptist Church in Pratt City is providing food and shelter to tornado survivors in that community
-Food, water and other supplies are available at Pleasant Ridge Baptist Church in Hueytown.
-The Red Cross has opened feeding stations at Oak Grove Baptist Church, Knighten's Volunteer Fire Department, Webster's Chapel Volunteer Fire Department, First Baptist Church of Williams, Mt. Olive Volunteer Fire Department in Ohatchee and the Ellis Community Fire Department.
-Hardin's Chapel Church in Ragland is an official EMA site
-Free first aid station is open in Pleasant Grove from 9am to 6pm at 615 Pleasant Grove Road Monday through Friday
-Free medical clinic at Scott School in Pratt City 7am to 7pm
Shelters:
-Bethel Baptist Church in Pratt City is providing food and shelter to tornado victims in that community.
-The American Red Cross has set up shelters at the Belk Center in Tuscaloosa, First Baptist Church in Hanceville, the Boutwell Auditorium in Birmingham, the Civic Center in Cullman and First United Methodist Church in Springville.
-American Red Cross shelter in St. Clair County is at Greensport Baptist Church in Ashville
Insurance office locations:
-Allstate Insurance has mobile claims centers set up at the Lowe's in Bessemer, the Winn-Dixie at River Square Plaza in Hueytown and the K-Mart on Skyland Boulevard in Tuscaloosa.
-State Farm has centers set up at Lowe's in Cullman, Tuscaloosa, Bessemer and Fultondale.
-ALFA has centers at the Save-a-Lot in Cullman and the ALFA Service Center in Gadsden.
-Farmers Insurance has centers at Home Depot in Tuscaloosa, the Forest Square Shopping Center in Forestdale, and the Farmers district offices in Vestavia Hills and Pell City.
Misc:
-A battery charging station is set up at the Walmart in Tuscaloosa. Flash lights are also being given away while supplies last.
-If you have loved ones who are still missing in the Birmingham area, call 205-787-1487 or 205-787-1488.
-Greater Birmingham Humane Society lost and found pet hotline open 8am to 5pm daily: 205-397-8534. Hotline is for Jefferson and Tuscaloosa counties
-Official FEMA mobile disaster recovery center in Sumter county: Geiger Town Hall 201 Broadway
-Victims in Pratt City are in need of trash bags and baskets to help collect their personal belongings
-Calhoun County needs rope, tools, gloves, masks, tarps, first aid supplies and baby supplies
-Some local contractors in Tuscaloosa are offering free debris removal. Call 205-248-5800.
-Samaritan's Purse in Tuscaloosa is providing free debris removal and free tarps. Call 205-345-7554.
-The McWane Center in Birmingham is offering free admission to anyone who brings supplies for tornado victims.
-A dusk to dawn curfew is in effect for all of Cullman County.
-An 8pm to 6am curfew is in effect in the city of Tuscaloosa.
Those tiaras tell you they're special. They are, from left, Kelly Devine, the 2014 Mary from Dungloe; Brittany Killion, the 2013 Philadelphia Rose of Tralee, and Erin Carroll, the 2014 Miss Mayo.
I've still got a lot of yarn left over from my granny circle blanket. So starting a small project. I think this is called "cathedral motif". Need 64, made 8.
This was taken late in the night on the flight from New Delhi to Zurich. From the front of the aisle everyone seem asleep but from the rear it looked like the NASA Control Room. I realised that most people did not know how to make their screens dark as there is no on/off button. They finally end up with a light glowing in their face while they try to sleep in those cramped seats.
I had half the mind of uploading this pic upside down...it looks intriguing that way...but decided to spare the viewers the trouble of craning their necks.
View Large On Black to feel as if you are in the cabin!
(Your feedback is more valuable to me than just group logos and emblems. Thanks.)
Manufactured in the 1960s by the Traid Corporation of Encino, California. This is a late model Fotron with “Pictures Remaining” slot on top. Vacuum cleaners, World Book®™ Encyclopedias, Fuller brushes and the Fotron—what do they have in common? They were all sold door-to-door. The Fotron’s price was a bit steep, ranging from $150 to $300. The cameras were made to take 10 exposures 1x1 inch on special cartidges containing 828 film. They featured many high-class advancements such as built-in electronic flash with rechargeable batteries (which is why the plastic camera is (a) large and (b) heavy!), electric film advance and pushbutton settings for exposure. At the time, these were expensive features. Still, the Fotron camera campaign is considered by some to be the greatest photographic “rip-off” of the 20th century.
A personal note: This camera came to my collection by way of the George Eastman House collection. They occasionally sell “extras” from their collection to raise funds—watch for them on eBay. Visit their website at: www.eastmanhouse.org
For those interested, this is our rain barrel system. We took video to explain it, haven't gotten around to editing it yet.
We have 7-55 gallon barrels all hooked together. They fill at the same time and drain together. We have one spigot to fill watering cans and a pump with another spigot for use with the hose or sprinkler.
There's an overflow as well, they're all hooked together and overflow into the downspout if they're full. We have a clear tube at the end so we can see how much water we have. The system is also easily expandable if we want to add more barrels, we think we can fit 7-10 more across the back of the garage.
One of the best things about this system is the cost. We only spent about $120 for the entire system (including deck). The deck was built with lumber we removed from the deck on our house, we wanted a smaller sized deck on the house. The barrels are food grade plastic barrels and cost us only $10 each (you want to make sure you don't get barrels that had chemicals in them). We spent about $50 on other materials, posts, PVC (we also had some of that sitting around that we used up).
An advertisement dating back to the time of the rollout of Edwards Motors VistaLiner coach services.
Can recall that for a time that the service even featured an on board hostess service.
One example was Edwards Motors No. 61 with NZMB (Petone) bodywork that was converted to a movan.
No. 61, a 1968 Bedford SB3 bus, photoed on 18 November 2005 in Napier:
www.omnibus.org.nz/buslocation/bedford/edwards.html
Carjam details on No. 61:
Year: 1967
Make: BEDFORD
Model: SB3
Colour: Blue
Second Colour: White
Body Style: Self Propelled Caravan
Plate: GOFREE
Engine No: SB7810835
Chassis: 7810835
Vehicle Type: Motor Caravan
Seats: 2
CC rating: 7,000cc
Fuel Type: Diesel
Assembly Type: Unknown
Country of Origin: Not known
Gross Vehicle Mass: 9,525kg
Tare Weight: 6,416kg
Axle Type: 2-Axle
Axles: 2
Wheelbase: 5,485
Front Axle Group Rating: 3,719
Rear Axle Group Rating: 7,711
Vehicle Equipment Class: XNB
Industry Class: UNKNOWN
Plates History:
GOFREE - 27 November 1996
EC5438 - 19 November 1968
Edwards Motors No. 61 beside the tracks at Napier...
Those springs!
I am hopeless with other people's handwriting.
"1st car I drove was this Hillman of Dora Johns on .. .. camping? .. on the straight Melton Road stretch. (Water? ... )
Modelo: Judith
Idea original: Judith
Vestuario, maquillaje y peluquería: Judith
Fotografía y edición: JM Brea
Model: Judith
Original Idea: Judith
Costumes, makeup and hairdressing: Judith
Photography and editing: JM Brea
Those guys are usually on each station, paying attention at everything being in order. They check that everyone is in the train, they close the doors, and press Play at the end. This is something I really like in Germany, because at the end, all this machinery is human thanks to them.
Those of you pining for the high-winged days of the Dodge Charger Daytona and Plymouth Superbird can open up your checkbooks and make one payable to Heide Performance Products out of Madison Heights, Mich.
The company can turn any Dodge Challenger into a '70s-inspired pavement burner, though they leave the actual pavement-burning modifications up to you: the Superbird/Daytona kit is an appearance upgrade only.
The full kit comes with a nose cone assembly ($5,999), three-piece wing ($2,499), functional Shaker hood and scoop ($2,499), rear aluminum louvers ($899), HPP Challenger hood pins ($179), Daytona or Superbird taillight overlays ($189), fender gills ($89), pistol-grip shift lever ($149) and rear diffuser ($1,299), or a total of $13,800. HPP says the paint and installation usually averages around $6,000, so the total cost is less than $20,000.
HPP says that many customers buy the kit a piece at a time, installing them as time and budget allows. We'd suggest starting with the two most expensive things -- the wing and nose -- or the five cheaper things before you add the big body panels.
The wing -- which rides 57 inches above the pavement -- is a three-piece unit made from epoxy resin over an aluminum honeycomb core. The crossbar is adjustable and has been tested at speeds up to 200 mph, according to HPP.
The nose cone is made from epoxy resin and urethane, has electronically controlled headlight covers and includes grille surrounds and screens.
- See more at: autoweek.com/article/car-news/hpp-turns-challenger-superb...
[Test from Autoweek]
This Lego miniland-scale HPP Dodge Challenger-Superbird conversion has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 84th build challenge, our 7th birthday, to the theme, - "LUGNuts Turns 7…or 49 in Dog Years", - where all the previous challenges are available to build to. In this case challenge 68, - "A Baker's Dozen", - where thirteen sub-themes were also available. This is #10, - "A Car Featured in Top Gear". The HPP Superbird was featured on the Top Gear website on March 7, 2012, and in the print version of the magazine at about the same time.
If only she could talk, my sweet Nellie-Mae would have a pretty interesting story to tell I am sure. I adore her and would love to hear her story.
Sorry for those looking for smiles. This day needed a few tears.
I find that it's better for me to let these moments come up, wash over me, and let go of them. But I work in a fairly public office, shared by 9 of us, others walking through, and visitors at times as well. As I am first contact on phone and front desk, when I'm at work, the tears need to wait. So for lunch, I went off to the Emeryville Marina, and parked the car in the shade looking out at the water, and let the tears come up.
I'm not altogether sad, as I have lots that I'm grateful for in my life. But there's a convergence of things in my life right now for which the tears need outing, and I really don't want to choke them back. Last weekend's "prom" was a disappointment, but more than that, the planning was fun, exciting, and preoccupying. So now that it is over, and Rachel has come and gone twice in 2 weeks in preparation for her move, I'm experiencing a bit of a void that allows me to check in with where I am, and how I feel.
One big thing is Rachel leaving. Although she went to college nearly 7 years ago, and has mostly (except a couple of summers) been out of my nest since, she has been within an hour+ roadtrip. Now that she's in Portland for a couple of months and then traveling for an indeterminate amount of time, she's beyond my easy reach. After that she may actually come closer and live here in the East Bay with friends. Wouldn't Mama love that? But she might just as well decide to go far away. It's all up in the air. Add to that the recent palpable improvement in our relationship, now that I have the old Rache back in my life again, she's gone. The long and the short of it is, with Sam already in Portland, and Rachel now there as well and her return an unknown, I'm experiencing another phase of "empty nest" syndrome. It surprises even me that I'm still processing letting go as a mother. There are two people I can say I really love in my life, and suddenly they are both too far away for me to easily get to, and finances continue to be an obstacle which keeps me from feeling I could spontaneously visit, or help either of them out if they were in need. So today some sadness is coming up about all of that.
As well, there is a building frustration of feeling alone and lonely, and only glimpsing romantic love in my life, even though for nearly 6 months now I've been actively looking for "prospects". It's become a burning desire to feel someone close to me once again, and while it's pretty easy to find sex, I've been stubbornly unwilling to let myself go there without at least the possibility of a relationship included. That, it turns out, is nowhere to be found. It's a mystery to me exactly what the barrier is, the reason that this eludes me, when it feels like everyone else around me, no matter how problemed or unsuitable for relationship they appear to be to me, seems to be able to find their loved one with ease. Why are the only men around who interest me unavailable? Why are the only ones interested in me unsuitable? I've come to the conclusion that I must not be ready, or it would have happened for me by now. Considering what to do next, is again, back to 0, my new theme song.
Throw in some fluctuating hormones, and boy, aren't we having a grand old time?
So here I sit, like Holly Hunter in "Broadcast News", unplugging the phone and having a cry, letting it all out, just so that I can deal with the day, unfettered by the looming sadness, and getting on with the *business* of living. When I consider that even though I love my job, that work is the primary focus of my life, I hear Ruth Gordon's voice in "Harold and Maude", picnicking and watching a wrecking ball do its thing, asking with a doubting emphasis, "But is it enough?"
I think we all know my answer.