Last night we had book club. We skyped with a friend and fellow book-lover in France , who is laid up in bed, after emergency surgery on her back, after she woke up unable to walk, after breaking a disc in her back from vomiting, after food poisoning. Blame chicken, she said last night. She is in pain, and a month later still struggles to walk, with a foot with no feeling, and can only ride short distances in a car. Her rehabilitation will be long, and she is now beset with visa issues, the last thing she needs.
On Monday we woke up to the news that a young Wellingtonian had died in Thailand. They think it was food poisoning, and her two friends were also hospitalised, one needing emergency heart surgery, the other fortunately less severely affected.
Another friend yesterday told me that a dear friend of hers was, it seemed, without brain function, after a car accident. His wife is undergoing radiation therapy after surgery after chemotherapy for breast cancer.
And I read Bridgett’s post.
Yesterday reminded me to appreciate the good in my life while I still have it, and to eat carefully.
Last night, after a lovely book club where we gossiped and skyped and listened to plans of an escape to Mexico more than any talk about books (except for agreeing that we loved The Sound of Butterflies by Rachel King, a period piece set in England and the Amazon by the daughter of a famous NZ historian), I drove home from the seaside town of Eastbourne, the sky clear, the city glittering in the distance, and the big yellow moon shining the way home across the harbour.
This afternoon I can hear the cicadas outside our door, the sky is blue, the chardonnay is cool (I’m making up for being a responsible driver last night on what was supposed to be Chardonnay Thursday), the steak will be tender, it is hot hot hot, and the weekend begins NOW.
Today I smiled as I waited at an intersection. A young Pacific Island driver in front of me in his beat up car stopped at a pedestrian crossing for a father carrying a baby, and the little sister running across after him. She skipped, and turned to the driver, and waved a thankyou at him. His smile of pleasure made me smile.
Two cars later, another driver – obviously happy it is the weekend – waited and waved me into the traffic stream. I waved my thanks, and smiled.
The lady in the pharmacy where I collected an order made me laugh. And now, home with my order, I am smiling again, because I took a risk and got some of my photos printed off on canvas. Here’s my favourite one:
What a lovely photo and post. Life is full of juxtapositions isn’t it?
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I think that sometimes in life you just get a run of really crap things all together. Fab photo – where was it taken? Have a great weekend.
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Isn’t it something how bad things can make the good things so much more vivid sometimes? Breathing in the air today as the snow melted, a different smell than earlier melts. This one was the real one. Spring is here (it’ll snow again for sure but it won’t be the same).
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Beautiful photo, beautiful thoughts. I must admit I am still reeling from the thought of breaking a disk in one’s back from vomiting. How utterly awful.
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Yes, the vomiting/breaking a disc horrifies me too. The things that can go wrong are too awful to contemplate… or maybe if one does think about them, one should also include the beauty and laughter that are possible too.
Love the photo!
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We’re all hanging by a thread. Carpe diem!
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the contrast is what makes things pop more vivid, like real life chiaroscuro.
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To all of you: Well said.
IB/Helen: I know. Just ghastly!
Sushigirl: Photo is of a sunrise in Kruger Park, South Africa. It’s now hanging on our wall and looks brilliant.
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