Tomorrow, Zok and I leave for Hong Kong, where I will turn forty-one years of age. Hong Kong definitely falls into the category of wonder-I wonder if I ever thought of visiting Hong Kong. I wonder if I could have found its placement on a map earlier than ten years ago. I wonder what the reality outside of descriptions from a travel book, or other peoples photographs will be.
When I think of being forty-one I think of Margo Channing. Bette Davis as Margo Channing, looking well for her age, but still looking her age. Margo who drank too much and behaved badly on her birthday.
I have packed for three climates, but mostly I have under packed because used clothing elsewhere is inexpensive, and I will make up what I need by wasting time alone in second-hand shops. I like to keep items of clothing and shoes for at least a decade, and so I will buy a pair of boots from a tried and true brand in America to replace a pair that I bought in New York City sometime in the early 1990s. The old pair will stay in Stockholm freeing up space in my suitcase for the new. A simple yet effective system. Most of the suitcase is taken up by my tight fisted nature, I have packed toiletries, aspirin, and cold medicines that are expensive when they can be found at all in Sweden. I am going from the beginnings of spring, into the beginnings of winter and surely I will have a resurgence of the cold I still have lingering.
Zok spent all his time home, digging up new garden beds. He has planted blueberries and raspberries that will later become pie.
He has found a sunnier place for our tomato plants and left the winter garden bed still planted. He has put in peppers of all types, and created all sorts of barriers for the snails and slugs, which I fear will only cause them to act like circus animals, then passing on new tricks, to the next generation.
Most of my seeds have turned into the beginnings of Hollyhock, and Foxgloves. My twig looks like a small tree, and even had one bloom, I don't know the real name of the tree, but I call it a 'snowball' tree because of the way the blooms look. My gardenia looks horrible but my tiny lilac tree that only went in at the end of autumn has lilacs on one branch. The garden will go on without me, and I am sad to miss its progression. Most people I know only think of traveling as being more exciting than living day to day, but I am often happiest following the sun from the front porch to the back. Admiring the garden as I sit in the sun with a drink and a book. Content to watch the colors in the sky change as the hours pass, ending a quiet day, by gazing at a horizon full of stars.
When I think of being forty-one I think of Margo Channing. Bette Davis as Margo Channing, looking well for her age, but still looking her age. Margo who drank too much and behaved badly on her birthday.
I have packed for three climates, but mostly I have under packed because used clothing elsewhere is inexpensive, and I will make up what I need by wasting time alone in second-hand shops. I like to keep items of clothing and shoes for at least a decade, and so I will buy a pair of boots from a tried and true brand in America to replace a pair that I bought in New York City sometime in the early 1990s. The old pair will stay in Stockholm freeing up space in my suitcase for the new. A simple yet effective system. Most of the suitcase is taken up by my tight fisted nature, I have packed toiletries, aspirin, and cold medicines that are expensive when they can be found at all in Sweden. I am going from the beginnings of spring, into the beginnings of winter and surely I will have a resurgence of the cold I still have lingering.
Zok spent all his time home, digging up new garden beds. He has planted blueberries and raspberries that will later become pie.
He has found a sunnier place for our tomato plants and left the winter garden bed still planted. He has put in peppers of all types, and created all sorts of barriers for the snails and slugs, which I fear will only cause them to act like circus animals, then passing on new tricks, to the next generation.
Most of my seeds have turned into the beginnings of Hollyhock, and Foxgloves. My twig looks like a small tree, and even had one bloom, I don't know the real name of the tree, but I call it a 'snowball' tree because of the way the blooms look. My gardenia looks horrible but my tiny lilac tree that only went in at the end of autumn has lilacs on one branch. The garden will go on without me, and I am sad to miss its progression. Most people I know only think of traveling as being more exciting than living day to day, but I am often happiest following the sun from the front porch to the back. Admiring the garden as I sit in the sun with a drink and a book. Content to watch the colors in the sky change as the hours pass, ending a quiet day, by gazing at a horizon full of stars.
2 comments:
I think your snowballs are Viburnum opulus. There are lots of those up and down my street and I've loved them so much this spring that I think I might plant one too.
Here's hoping that you don't get a cold/flu relapse and looking forward to seeing you in the summer!
i hope you are having a good time so far. and while i love the BD reference, there is no way that you are even close to looking your age. your seat belt is always fastened too. nope, just not possible.
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