future trips

I ask Ed – are you sure you don’t want to go to Poland with me next winter?
Yes.

Why not?

(I’ll not provide his answer, lest you might think -- hey, that's not a fair response. I don’t want that.)

fate

Something that sticks in my mind:
Two years ago, I say to an innkeeper on the Isle of Skye: I am so sorry that we are here for just this short stretch.
He tells me – it was good that we met. Fate may have it that you will return.
I have not returned. What does that say about fate?

night update, from the northern Midwest

I say to Ed: it’s hot upstairs. Must be nearly 100.
Did you open windows? -- he asks.
Yes...
What’s the temp outside now? (Nearly 11 pm)
81.
Ah. So less than 100. I’ll go open more windows.

wheels are churnin’

...on the hottest day thus far.

And you know what? I love it. A sun that heats the earth quickly and forces me to turn the hose onto newly planted stems -- it's okay, it's okay!






A few things to note on this day:

I decide to pay attention to Facebook. I had joined early on. Daughters -- they thought I should. But I basically ignored it. If someone “friended me” I mostly said OK, but I never posted, never logged in, never even noticed it – with the exception of those long evenings when I moonlighted at the little shop, and a minute of reading a social network felt less lonely, less like I was constantly trekking on some mill that was too fast, too distant from where I wanted to be.

So today I actually posted something. Not anything significant, in fact not anything an Ocean reader wouldn’t have already seen here, but still. Kind of cool to limit yourself to a sentence or two. A different style of writing – another challenge.

Then, too, it was hot.






I grade exams – I have to. This isn’t about self imposed deadlines anymore. Ed and I are taking off this Thursday. We have a lot to do before then.

And I look around me and I think – good, this is good. I have plans. I have a path to those plans. It’s good.



We pick up my older girl at the airport. She’d been away for the week-end and the blast of warm air catches her by surprise, I think.


And late at night, I listen to Beatles music. In Poland, when I was in my teens, I challenged myself to sing in exactly the right diction/intonation/breath intakes as on the Beatles records that I had from my years in the States. You should hear me do Fool on the Hill! I knew every pause, every upswing, every hesitation!

I’m 58. So many decades since a high school classmate would ask me -- sing Strawberry Fields! Sing your favorite Beatles song! Let me take you down...

Many people can trace their childhoods, their friends and family through Facebook. I cannot, really. There are very few people from my past who are on Facebook. My ignited interest in it is a nod to the future, not to my past.

But there will always be the Beatles. My bags are packed. I’ve said good bye to all my American friends. I turn on the old box that plays 33s for me. There are places I remember...