Well, it's time for me to bid you a temporary farewell, for as of tomorrow morning, I shall be on my long awaited, much anticipated holiday. For two! whole! fun-filled! weeks.
I am acutely aware that a lot can happen in two weeks in our corner of the blogosphere. It seems like a long time to be gone. And the very words "two weeks" can, in themselves, be of great import to many of us. When I hear those words, I often also hear distant but relentless drumbeats, a low and ancient rhythm, measuring that time between not knowing and knowing. It's a sound which carries near water, reaching those waiting for a ticket off the island, and for others already on the ferry, pulling from shore.
So, if possible, and assuming the alleged internet connection actually exists, I may be checking in (though unlikely to be blogging), at least during the first week. After that, I shall be too busy trying to prevent our boat from crashing into rocks/sandbars/local sea life.
I am optimistic about this sailing lark. In my head, I picture myself in a pose not unlike that adopted by Russell Crowe in the film Master and Commander- you know the scene I mean? High in the rigging, wind in hair, exuberantly facing the sea spray as the mighty ship plows its way through the waters. Except in my version, without the five o'clock shadow and greasy ponytail. Plus, my clothes are a lot cuter. And, of course our boat will be quite a bit, um, smaller. And Russell wasn't gulping from a large vat of wine in that particular shot, as I will almost certainly be doing when not tying bowlines or whatever.
Speaking of yachts, E. has rung and texted me dozens of times since he went his obstinant way on the stupid trip down south. Apparently, the weather has been grim, the seas rough, and the food full of weevils. Well, I exaggerate, but not by much. He says he doesn't even need me to say "I told you so", because he can hear my dulcet voice telling him at every turn. That's either good, or worrying- not sure which yet.
While I am away, I hope some of you will stop in at the barn from time to time, maybe water the plants and just keep an eye on things. Should you be so inclined, you could always play on the rope swing I have rigged up from the hayloft for your amusement. Or, choose from the following activities:
1. Write me a Haiku. I've been playing around with this poetic form for a couple months now, and feel it is a perfect medium to capture those little infertility moments we all so treasure. For example:
Early morning panic
Sperm in cup, warm in my bra
Red light, green light, red.
2. Laugh at badly dressed celebrities with more money than sense at Fugging It Up.
3. Frustrated? Whack endless penguins at this ultimately pointless but completely addictive site.
4. Whatever your political leanings, view the internet hit satire This Land at JibJab.com.
5. Read one of the very excellent blogs listed on the lower right hand side of the page.
See you on Wednesday, 6 October.