II. A Spider and His Friend Find Something Tangled There
Well. If we are so bound to change, time to ante up.
Mustardseed and I are going abroad.
It was that morning, that sunrise, that really solidified it. I have been plotting an extended trip to New Zealand for about a year now. I had given myself a time-frame to leave by early 2006, but it was a vague plan, without too many specifics nailed down; more like fish floating about in a tank. Then Mustardseed started to think about it as well.
By the lake, ensorceled by quite a different perspective, the world seemed very close. The Southern Hemisphere was only a short trip across the water. We have been caught in the sticky strands of Toronto, both of us, for quite a while now. We've started to feel a little wound up. Time to go away, so we can come back.
Changed.
Time to find somewhere else to spin my designs.
After all, 10 years is a long time to spend anywhere, and I have not been able to get out of this city, since I got myself into it, quite as often as I would like. Money and distance have always been an issue. And I don't drive. I can drive, just not legally.
For some reason, people won't lend me their cars. Jitters, I suspect.
So trips out have been a little limited in scope and execution. That is going to change. Imminently.
I refuse to wake up one morning in my early thirties and realize that I have not made it off the continent even once. I R.E.F.U.S.E..
In this light, I'm off to Paris in September. Well, into Paris, out from Amsterdam. I've got a week to kill in Europe. I adumbrate: I'm going to slay it good. It's a start.
And I'm starting to get very excited.
New Zealand is a different kettle of fish altogether. Im going there to work and holiday; going to go for a long while, to live and love and laugh ...
and fret, and frown, and fall ...
all that stuff we people do. With Mustardseed on board, motivation and plans have started to coalesce much more rapidly, and with better gumption than they had been under my care alone. I am now no longer afraid that the bottom is going to fall out of the boat.
We made a pact that morning to see it through: to be sitting on the bank of a different body of water on her birthday next year, hopefully spilling a different variety of tears into a foreign well... one that whirls in the opposite direction.
We're disengaging, getting free.
We got home that morning exhausted, but somehow a little nascent, scrubbed new. The world felt a little fresher. We slept well.
Then things started to go awry.
Mustardseed and I are going abroad.
It was that morning, that sunrise, that really solidified it. I have been plotting an extended trip to New Zealand for about a year now. I had given myself a time-frame to leave by early 2006, but it was a vague plan, without too many specifics nailed down; more like fish floating about in a tank. Then Mustardseed started to think about it as well.
By the lake, ensorceled by quite a different perspective, the world seemed very close. The Southern Hemisphere was only a short trip across the water. We have been caught in the sticky strands of Toronto, both of us, for quite a while now. We've started to feel a little wound up. Time to go away, so we can come back.
Changed.
Time to find somewhere else to spin my designs.
After all, 10 years is a long time to spend anywhere, and I have not been able to get out of this city, since I got myself into it, quite as often as I would like. Money and distance have always been an issue. And I don't drive. I can drive, just not legally.
For some reason, people won't lend me their cars. Jitters, I suspect.
So trips out have been a little limited in scope and execution. That is going to change. Imminently.
I refuse to wake up one morning in my early thirties and realize that I have not made it off the continent even once. I R.E.F.U.S.E..
In this light, I'm off to Paris in September. Well, into Paris, out from Amsterdam. I've got a week to kill in Europe. I adumbrate: I'm going to slay it good. It's a start.
And I'm starting to get very excited.
New Zealand is a different kettle of fish altogether. Im going there to work and holiday; going to go for a long while, to live and love and laugh ...
and fret, and frown, and fall ...
all that stuff we people do. With Mustardseed on board, motivation and plans have started to coalesce much more rapidly, and with better gumption than they had been under my care alone. I am now no longer afraid that the bottom is going to fall out of the boat.
We made a pact that morning to see it through: to be sitting on the bank of a different body of water on her birthday next year, hopefully spilling a different variety of tears into a foreign well... one that whirls in the opposite direction.
We're disengaging, getting free.
We got home that morning exhausted, but somehow a little nascent, scrubbed new. The world felt a little fresher. We slept well.
Then things started to go awry.
Comments
Tune in next week, boys and girls.