So I’ve been meaning to blog for ages now. Like weeks, not just days.
But I’ve had words when I haven’t had the time to write them, and then times when I had no words to write.
I know. Writing is strange that way.
In one of the Facebook groups I’m a member of, a friend who is a fan of astrology said something about Mercury being in retrograde just now, and it affecting all manner of communication. Does anyone actually believe that stuff?
I don’t. But I’ve felt so hyper-introverted, woefully underproductive, and unusually inarticulate these past weeks that I can’t help but wonder if there’s something else going on…
Maybe I’m just ready for a break.
It’s also been a month of holidays and observances here: Pesach/Passover, Yom HaShoah/Holocaust Remembrance, Yom HaZikaron/Memorial Day, Yom HaAtzmaut/Independence Day. Not to mention the Eastern churches’ Holy Week and Easter. And the fact that one person’s Independence is another’s Nakba (Catastrophe). It’s an odd thing observing holidays that aren’t mine — feeling the emotion around me, but not really experiencing it myself.
But we’ve also had Justin’s parents staying with us for the past fortnight. A lovely visit in which they got to see parts of the country they never thought they’d see. Lots of wine enjoyed on the balcony of Yakfie. And barbecues aplenty!
And Sunday evening we were joined in worship by a consultation group from the Church of Scotland. I cannot say how wonderful it was to see some familiar faces and catch up briefly over dinner after the service and breakfast the next day.
The strange thing though about seeing people from Scotland, particularly at this stage when I haven’t been back since we moved, is that I see in their reaction to this land and all its many complexities and my work and my life here that what has become the new normal for me is hugely different from the old normal. One isn’t superior to or more comfortable or less challenging or more beautiful than the other. They’re just different. Very, very different. They both just are what they are, and I get on with what needs to be done. There’s more to be said about that, of course. When my words return.
But it leaves me uncertain of how I feel about going back to Scotland in July. I can only think in terms of activities (or lack of activities to be precise — rest and retreat especially), rather than emotions.
So while you all wait with baited breath for my next post which hopefully will be deep and meaningful … or at the very least less rambly … I leave you with pictures of what has been my normal over the past few days….
We’ve been adopted by a kitten whom we have named Hypatia because she screams like someone being tortured by a Christian mob each time we give her her medicine. (She will be an outside cat.)
And have been dog-sitting for lovely Mollie (who also comes with a canary).
While Coleridge sleeps off the trauma of it all.
When one is trying to keep Coleridge from eating the canary, Mollie from eating Hypatia, and Coleridge and Mollie from eating one another’s food, one has little time or energy for many other concerns…