Why am I foraging minutes now, like a squirrel, thinking ahead to the long winter?
Why are my posts short, my stories inconsequential, my interactions with commenters minimal?
It’s time that I went back to Poland for a while. After an 18 month break, I’m ready for it again.
I used to do some work at the courthouse in Krakow during my most recent trips there, but this time, I may do none of it. I want some hours with family (an aging father and a close in age and in shared experiences sister are there, in Warsaw) and with old friends.
I want to show Ed, my occasional traveling companion, who this time did not say “no” to the proposed trip, I want to show him the store where my mother once bought me a hazelnut birthday cake, back in 1959. I want to participate in the Polish language. I want to study the faces of the women who come in to the cities to sell stuff. Cheeses, slippers, anything. Not flowers. This isn’t the season for lilies of the valley, or for bunches of violets.
Ed and I are taking off the day after tomorrow. We’ll be in Poland for a week and then elsewhere in Europe for a handful of days. This week has been, as a result, packed with work. I need to wrap up the semester before I fly back, home.