11 February 2017



We woke up to strange white stuff covering the world outside. We decided to stay indoors and my old friend vertigo arrived for a visit. I could dwell on how I pushed all the misery buttons at once, incl. weeping and gnashing of teeth, but, well, old hat.
After lunch, big white sheets of sleet were coming down outside. The man who had consoled me earlier started to make marmalade from scratch in the kitchen. I sat down with him while he separated the pips from the flesh. I lamented that I have to be better by Tuesday for my appointment with the rehabilitation center - on which I am focussing all my hopes and dreams right now - and he put his sticky hands and arms around me, which was nice, and assured me that whatever happens, it will not be the end of the world.

Then I listened a couple of times to Frazey Ford singing about the Indian Ocean. The best ocean on the planet, I loved it from day one and cried very very hard when the plane carried us away from it for the last time.





6 comments:

37paddington said...

it is a lovely thing to be have to a true and empathetic companion. Who makes marmalade from scratch! Feel better, friend.

Colette said...

He is a good man. I'm happy for you. And because he has you, he is also a lucky man.

am said...

You are certainly in good sticky hands. Your sweet prince on the white horse.

Not easy to leave the ocean. I still dream of it.

Wonderful to hear Frazey Ford on "Indian Ocean." And to remember the Be Good Tanyas:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdIhpkEkC4c

Haven't thought of them for awhile. Spent quite a bit time
listening to Frazey Ford here and there today after listening to "Indian Ocean."

Sending love.

Roderick Robinson said...

A link, albeit a tenuous one. I have swum in the Indian Ocean, off the island of Mauritius, an event that went from the sublime to the ridiculous in half an hour. First I was snorkelling over a genuine reef endowed with all those reefy things one sees on telly including a turtle; next I was struggling cumbersomely, lacking all dignity, to get back into the boat which lacked one of those convenient little ladders. A clown from way out West.

Should you wish to interview someone in the immediate future, I have appended an amplificatory feuilleton to the comments section of my most recent post.

Sticky hands, definitely erotic.

molly said...

Glad you have such sweet memories to sustain you - and a prince with sticky hands. Fingers crossed for you for Tuesday.

Anonymous said...

Love the love you and R share. It's as beautiful and deep as the Indian Ocean. Never heard of Frazey Ford before, lovely music. Hope you feel better, Sabine. Thinking of you.