Traffic Jam

As excuses for being late go, I'm sure we've all heard (or used) a few dandies in our lifetime.  However, this Kansas girl wasn't prepared for the unexpected delay encountered on Saturday morning en route to an appointment some miles from home.  

A and I were tooling along the A-road, winding through villages and countryside with little time to spare, when we noticed a couple of sheep in the road.  We slowed, then stopped as we saw quite a number more on a leisurely stroll to join the first two.  Soon, the entire road was clogged with Cumbrian sheep enjoying their morning social.  

There was nothing for us to do but gawk, and wait it out.  It appears that the herd had formed an escape committee which gallantly led the way out from their captivity, but upon encountering the main road sheepishly realized there was no grass or water source, and a few big, smelly metallic beings blocking further exploration.  The committee thus conferred for quite some time, came to a vote, and ultimately decided this escape was for the dogs and that maybe home wasn't so bad after all.   In the end, they slowly headed for greener pasture.  

Although this may be a common occurrence in these parts, it was a novel experience for me.  I rather enjoyed recounting it later.  

As excuses go, in my books, it's a bit more colorful than 'traffic was bad'...

A bit of 'humour'

I've long thought A would make a fantastic stand-up comedian.  Or at the least, he could be writing material for one.  At the risk of self-deprecating humor (humour) (and too much information), A said something so funny this morning that I couldn't resist sharing.  A bit of backstory first, if you will.

Last night, I was admittedly a bit of a mother hen.  Following a bout of a respiratory virus in which A had lost his voice and suffered some congestion, I became concerned when I perceived that A had seemed to stop breathing while sleeping.   (However, a change of position seemed to remedy this to my satisfaction and it was probably not real cause for alarm). 

Upon relaying this to A this morning, he quipped:

"My wife's gotten so bored with her own illnesses she's started inventing new ones ... for me.  She's a hypochondriac by proxy". 

Remembrances

It's been ages since I've written anything.  Not for lack of ideas, but rather lacking impetus to explore some of the thoughts and feelings which have been condensing lately on the window pane of my mind.  I think I've been trying too hard to keep things upbeat or funny with each new blog entry, but life isn't like that.  

My first Christmas abroad has now passed, and along with it my reluctance to open up about the experience lest it somehow lessen the glow of A and I's first Christmas together as man and wife.  In fact, Christmas brought with it a multitude of moods and juxtapositions which were difficult to catalogue. 

In fairness, I was ill, which didn't exactly motivate me to express myself beyond the tissue box and my best attempt at merriment in spite of it.  There were definitely many reasons to smile ... it wasn't an exercise in complete melancholy.  It was a time of starting new traditions, and relishing the fact that A and I can now spend all our Christmases together with an ocean no longer between us.  

However, the lead up to the Christmas season did bring with it an unexpected ache.  There is something about completely changing the landscape of one's life that dredges up memories and feelings once buried.  I know I can't be alone in this.  While I expected to have moments of intensely missing my family and friends and certain shared traditions (and I did at that); what confused me was the depth of the nostalgia that crept in and caught my heart so firmly.  A wistful yearning for winters long past, grandparents and other departed loved ones, and exquisitely sweet memories which we can never re-live, other than in the soft-focus of our remembrances.  These things I do more than carry with me as I move forward ... they are intricately and inextricably woven into my very being.  Upon discussing this with a friend who also lives abroad, I came to understand that these sentiments demand acknowledgment.  She said something to me that resonated:

"It's not clinging to the past.  Rather honoring it."

That is what I intend to do.  As I move forward into this incredible life, I will dance with the memories, and carve out new ones.  I will smile at what was, and embrace what is.  It is how life should be... how it is.  

Perhaps that is the best gift of the season.  We are shaped by our experiences.  Those I love have given me the tools to make the most ... of today.