Sunday, November 21, 2010


Photo: voyage of self-discovery, 1989, Capacocia, Turkey
Last weekend we had new friends over for Mexican soup.  Midway, between spoonfuls, he had a faint recollection of being here 30 years ago.  It was the sauna more than the house, that brought back this long ago moment.  "It must've been during our partying years," she said blankly, having no such memory.

For Rob and I the sauna has a special heart warming appeal too.  It was where Rob declared confidently, away from the Realtor, that this was the place he'd waited a long time for.  The classic log cabin on a quiet lake was the perfect antidote for our upcoming last stint overseas, in Columbia, where we knew it would be rough.  The proverbial carrot to await us.  This was a snapshot I still have of pure love for Rob; there he was making his wishes known to the Realtor (why is this word capitalized?), no negotiations, no inquiries into the water and septic systems.  This is fine, thank you very much, we'll take it.  He wore an old down coat with feathers leaking out of it and duct tape on the elbows, three weeks before Christmas.  The Realtor did not take him seriously, it seems nobody buys a house before Christmas.  But there was a rush on, we were leaving soon, the deal was made in a hurry and the rest is history.

But the partying comment stuck with me last weekend.  I pondered this at length with my friend Elke a few days later.  I blurted out "I think I didn't party enough in my youth!!"  Imagine this bizarre statement from a middle aged woman.  I was never much of a drinker, especially combining the fine art of mingling and small talk and driving home in one piece.  "Maybe you could start partying now - I'm sure it's never too late," Elke eagerly offered.  But no, that wasn't it either.  I was climbing cliffs with homes carved out of the sides toting my journal and an apple for lunch in the Turkish countryside of Capadocia.  That was my idea of a party.  Searching out Freud's bust in Vienna,  soaking my feet in fountains eating a baguette for lunch in Paris, picking the grapes off the vines in the Beaujolais region, that was deliriously fun to me.

In conclusion, fun is the intended target these days.  It's cheap, long overdue and I can't beleive I have to be reminded of this.  Today's fun was out on the freshly frozen lake, on skates with a bundle of beaver chewed sticks wanting to scurry home and not play tag with the neighbours.  But one tried to grab my precious beauties, taunting me, and I wouldn't let go.  So laughing hysterically, I was yanked around by my cargo, on wobbly legs and sent sailing on smooth ice.  It was a good belly laugh with tears, catching my breath.

1 comment:

  1. I love the subject of this weeks blog entry as it's a subject that's been gathering weight in my life as well. A few years ago I remarked to a friend that "I think I don't have enough fun anymore". When she asked me "why not?" I don't think I had a good answer.

    In truth, I think I can tentatively say that I've truly forgotten to have fun. I'd been so busy that I'd put myself right off of the "to do" list of my own life....go figure!

    I think that's only part of it. I am inclined to side with you and what you've just is different for each of us and the definition keeps changing. Transition is definitely a fact for us "menopausal soul"s (try a Las Vegas marquee-sized fact) and it's a true source of joy to find that the definition of fun has changed. Fun has become a lot more tailored to my own internal workings and I revel in it.

    Things as simple as naming the new adopted stray cat "Woo Woo" because it makes me smile every time my husband sticks his head out the door and yells "Who Who" with his thick accent. Because saying the name makes me think of cartoons and childhood and it makes me happy each and every time I say it.

    I'm now making it mandatory to install little mirth defaults like Woo Woo's name, all over my life. It is a transition from party life to joyful life.

    I too, am astounded that I needed to tell myself to have some fun, that I deserve it and that, hell, I need it. I'm deliberately paying attention to each and every little thing that brings a smile to my lips and making a point of lingering at that place for the sheer tiny-joy of it.

    I love this post.
    I love that you gave me a place to say these things.

    I look forward to the next.

    And by the way, what a great goal!