‘The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences.’ – Eleanor Roosevelt
After being in the same place for almost eight weeks, it’s time to move again. A season back in beautiful Bath was blighted only by the hideous weather but, as we have been constantly pointing out, it’s winter in the UK – what did we expect?
Although my writing assignments haven’t turned out quite as I expected (see my earlier blog) , since the beginning of the year it seems that I’ve walked 180 miles and swum well over 6 miles. I’ve been to three aqua fit classes as well as a few other exercise sessions led by a lady who clearly practices what she advocates. Surely my fitness must have improved after all that! Now, of course, the question is whether I can continue in the same vein.
While that question bobs about unanswered, I’ve managed to put together a photo book of the great Isle of Wight trek of three years ago during which we more or less circumvented the island while celebrating my middle sister’s 60th birthday.
This has not only been a lot of fun, but allowed me the luxury of reminiscing. It was a week of spectacular sunshine in which we didn’t have to watch the clock but were able to indulge in long conversations and the welcome opportunity to relive bits of our childhood with shared memories and much laughter. We noted how my eldest sister walks with her elbows sticking out in a way that reminds us of our Dad. My middle sister blows her nose in exactly the same way – a physiological conundrum which I couldn’t begin to emulate. I have since realised that I sometimes rest my chin on my hand in the same listening pose that I observed him adopt so often. Good old Dad; we’re reminded of him often. DNA is strong stuff!
Having just spent the weekend with that ‘birthday sister’, there has been more laughter and more remembering. We even had a spectacularly beautiful day of blue skies and sunshine which we used to walk through soul-restoring countryside. Spring appeared to have finally arrived but was washed away in a deluge of rain the very next day.
Now it’s time to pack up again and turn my face south as I prepare to join the husband in Cape Town for a few weeks. While I”m not sure that I’m 100% with Mrs Roosevelt on her philosophical quote about the purpose of life, I recognise that regardless of the inevitable downsides (as there are to pretty much everything), to be able to travel anywhere in these crazy times is an enormous privilege. A spanking new blue passport is poised to help me on my way for the next ten years, while body and soul allow.
I will not be sorry to leave the grey skies behind. The hot water bottle will not be required and I can thankfully exchange boots for flip-flops again. Rather than hanker for hot crumpets and comforting stews, I will be reaching for salads and the exquisite pleasure of juicy mangoes which really demand to be eaten in the bath to avoid the inevitable surfeit of stickiness.
All my writing ideas will be coming with me in my head and on my laptop, and I am trusting that the southern sun will thaw out my ‘blocks’ and, God willing, give me safe passage to a new season of creativity.
[Image credits: top – Stefan Schweihofer; luggage – G37G ; bottom – anon. All from Pixabay. Isle of Wight – my own]
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