20 August 2012

1. the view from our hotel window; 2. Psyche and Cupid, by Canova inside the Louvre; 3. the Louvre, under the pyramid (lobby).

The Passage of Time

11 August 2012

I've waited ... waited for so long. Four long years. In some ways I find it hard to believe that much time has passed. In others, each moment of each day of each year has felt infinite. My bag has been packed for 2 days now, except for the small last minute bits. I have only 2 more sleeps until I fly. I keep looking at the clock this evening, as though that will speed up time. Time feels sluggish. And it grows more sluggish with each glimpse at the clock.

Paris ~ My Carry-On Experiment

In 3 sleeps I will be flying to Paris, France. I am getting really excited. Not only to see Paris, but to see, feel, taste the man who will be waiting there for me when the plane lands. Inspired by Susannah Conway and her recent experience travelling across the pond with only a carry on, I am doing the same. Here's my list. Keep in mind that it was longer, and I've had to cut it down, to decide what not to bring.

1 pr trainers ~ WEARING
2 pr of socks ~ WEARING one
1 pr yoga pants ~ WEARING
3 tops ~ WEARING one
1 hoodie/cardigan ~ WEARING
1 pr yoga capris
1 pr capris
1 pr sandals
2 prs PJs
6 prs of knickers
2 bras
1 towel
1 89 ml (see-thru) container of shampoo
1 89 ml (see-thru) container of condition
2 disposable razors
1 comb
1 toothbrush
kobo e-reader with cable
2 books
camera/card reader
2 journals
hair accessories
my mobile with charge cable
my laptop with cable
individual pouches of Crystal Light

The photo above is not mine, but I hope to take one just like it in a few days' time. And I will post them, oh yeah I will post them.

I Am Still A Child

9 August 2012

I made some arrangements with my parents, who live three provinces away, for today---Thursday. When these did not happen, I called Mum and Dad. They weren't home. Since my dad's stroke 4 years ago (from which he recovered excellently, you wouldn't really know he ever had a stroke) he can no longer drive, and so my parents have sort of become homebodies ... in Winnipeg you cannot go far without a car when you are an octogenarian. That's simply the nature of Winnipeg. And so if I call them and they are not home, I wait a half hour and call them again. If they don't answer, I start getting worried, envision myself telephoning the hospitals' patient enquiry numbers and having the operator forward me to a nursing station, where a nurse tells me something utterly devastating, which I find myself unable to handle because I am so far away and feel so helpless and do not by any stretch of the imagination feel ready to lose my parents. {whew that was a long sentence, wasn't it?} Well, I feel very grateful for mobile phones, because that is how I reached my dad on his, to find out they had an outing to the shopping centre this afternoon and were about to call my uncle for a ride back home.

How quickly my imagination runs away on me, totally red-lining it, nearly sending me into an emotional tail spin! The bottom line is I love my Mum and Dad loads and loads and losing them is my greatest fear. When I start to think how it will be like, how it will feel, I get anxious, and a suffocating darkness seizes my soul. A friend of mine once told me, "Roxanne when you lose your mother, you're gonna lose your mind." He based that simply on the ease and depth and intensity of my telephone conversations with her, during the few months he couch-surfed at my flat. No truer words were spoken. However, just because I don't have really long, intense, heart-to-heart conversations with my Dad, doesn't mean I don't love and cherish him just as much. In fact I was a daddy's girl growing up. And still am. In many ways my heart belongs to him, and his to me. Every day I am thankful that I still have my parents: many people at my age (43) do not. I am thankful that I have generous, loving and supportive parents. I miss them loads and loads. And I cannot ever take them for-granted. Ever.

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