I have been so QUIET.
My apologies, but the loud noises and skittish brain activity in my head have not been translating well onto the keyboard and screen lately.
I guess I could tell you news – about settling back into life in the real world after the trip of our lifetime; about having to tighten the purse strings and turn down invites as we start paying off those euro debts (woooorth it);
I could try and explain the strange lovely shock of my landscape as it turned suddenly from ancient buildings seeped in history to fields of luminous green and massive gum trees;
I could tell you about the miserable weather we’ve been having up here, the days on end of constant drizzle and cold followed by howling winds which sweep over the earth and suck her bones brittle;
I could tell you that the farm is on the market and that our lives might be forever changed in a couple of months time or that we could be right here, business as usual, and I don’t think I need to explain to you how unnerving that can be;
I could tell you that we have a new orphan calf – her mother had to be put down after her uterus pro-lapsed for the fourth time in as many weeks… I could tell you that I refuse to name this baby or feed her myself, as I know that I will become too attached, and that farm life has made me a little weary of falling in love with sweet young things which will only grow into steaks and chops to satiate our endless human appetites;
I could tell you how frustrated I’ve been with life and the mindset of so many people in this area and I could tell you exactly how many times I’ve wanted to blast myself in a rocket right out of this small town hell…
… but then I catch the African sunset on a drive home and as I watch the crimson orb sink below the ragged and noble line of the Drakensburg mountains, my head shakes hands with my heart again and I know deep down in the toe-tips of my soul that this is exactly where I am supposed to be.
For now.
