Home for the weekend. Members of family and friends trying to get in touch but Im not ready to talk. Not ready to communicate yet with my world that was. Remembering Bens death was sad yet celebrating his life with friends and family good and there were moments of joy as red kites graced us with a close presence, closer than known before. Eerily important. And of course, there were Poppy and Edward.
Blogger has just lost the beginnings of a post again. Apple say its a blogger problem, that i should uninstall and reinstall, so i do. Or at least, i uninstall, only to find that iOS have deleted blogger apps and i can no longer reinstall it.
When karma calls you just have to listen. Go with the flow.
Carla has brought me things i needed from home, has taken back things i dont need for my forward journey. Or didnt need. Things change. The matter of a few hours and plans are not as they were. What is the saying about a speck of dust and a butterflies wings? One tiny thing affects the next. I want to say the order of events is unimportant but i think the order of great importance.
Two days ago i was hoping to stay at a friends flat in Oban to think for a while but i suspect she has not seen my mail. Yesterday, i was off to a small scottish island but the house had no wifi and vodafone no signal. This morning a fb message asks will i volunteer for a shift at the nolsoy festival. a glimmer in the knowing im not returning, that i might actually like to. i see a fb post about women, almost friends, swimming in nolsoy harbour. I know Im not returning yet slowly the land of maybe maybe, becomes maybe. I check my once assumed accommodation, knowing it will be gone and find its still there waiting. I smile at myself and think, maybe.
My attempt to change the date of my flight to an unspecified future date meets with failure. My attempt to name a date in the near future costs the equivalent of three flight prices. So its use it or lose it. Lose it then. I find a self described, ‘hippie’ camper van from Edinburgh, think i might take it for two weeks, a road trip might suit. I let my choices sit while family clouds personal decisions, the fog has come down.
Late afternoon i book my scottish campervan, excited to check out the desire i had when i first retired of living in a van. I put through a booking for two nights, check it out then take it for a fortnight if its an ok space, bookings for it are low, its readily available. I can buy a dongle or write offline and hotspot my phone. My plan is clear and purposeful.
I begin to read some of my australian journals and fall in love with my words. I know how important it is for me to begin to make some sense of them. Ive talked of this for so long. I just need to be away from home, somewhere reasonably comfortable, with internet. The journey i began fifteen years ago is not yet over for me, not yet complete, still needs to be heard. I need to live it, love it and mourn it again.
Early evening, my campervan booking is rejected, no reason given.
I check in on line for my flight. Tomorrow morning i will pack, buy Doue Egberts and some pre soaped razors before i catch my bus to board my train to take my flight to get the bus to board the ferry to nolsoy.
My pack is both lighter and heavier. My journals are physically heavy but emotionally light. the weight of two pairs of shoes, excess electronics, lonely planet Faroes and clothes have gone.
Writing without the app is now a chore. Nothing flows. Spell check doesnt work. Photos cant go in. I despair. Ive searched and searched. The blogger app just isnt there. I try wordpress but dont make sense of it on my tablet. I struggle writing using on line blogger rather than the app. I struggle trying to use apples Pages, copy and paste.
So I’m returning to write but without an efficient writing platform. I check the App store again, nothing but i suddenly think to check purchases and discover i bought a blogger upgrade! Its still there, I download, copy and paste. Maybe im away again.