Hello my lovelies,
I saw a few prompts yesterday that suggested autumn was starting today. Such as it is, life continues its <<roulant>> and it’s time for the season to change, but I was more concerned about a significant change in the weather: did I need to make sure my kids had rain coats and rain resistant shoes?
It took a while, but I eventually realised the only real significance was the date: the actual equinox is today, the theoretical start of autumn. It’s not like in South Africa where you celebrate spring on September 1st! Alas, the reality is the sun is already but a distant memory and my morning coffee with the kids is now from the comfort of my duvet and not the cold, dark kitchen terrace 😪
The absent sun a mere shrug of concern, there is plenty to look forward to as we head into October though. They include cooler morning runs with less mosquitos, taking photographs of the autumn colours, perhaps a little mushroom foraging this year might even be on the cards. Plus it’s birthday season for some and comfort cooking is high on my agenda 😁
Since I’m trying to find different ways to bring joy to my mundane burger-flipping job (5 weekends I’ve worked in a row now; that midnight finish on Fridays and Saturdays is exhausting- how did I ever manage to get through it more regularly?), I have arranged a small personal job tomorrow and a much awaited ladies night out at a restaurant on Friday. That said, my kids have asked for vetkoek to celebrate Heritage Day with so I may have more on my plate than a morning run and a Netflix And Chill afternoon!
The girls have been back at school for 3 weeks. Beth has taken to <<collège>> like a duck does to water.
Collège is a new school for her. It’s not the equivalent of high school but it has the style of high school where the kids have to walk from class to class for each subject. Beth is in the equivalent of Grade 6/Standard 4 (Alex in Grade 8/Standard 6) and has 7 (or 5 for A) years of school still ahead of her.
She (Beth) is a social butterfly and has a vast selection of old classmates that are friends who she commutes with. Both my girls use the public transport network to get to and from school on their own as is expected of the kids at this age. Some days they commute together, other occasions Beth dawdles with her friends and this week I’ve had to deal with afternoons where she’s not got home in time to see me before I leave for work. This results in emotions of complete failure and despair – all consequences I have to deal with on a phone call before her bed time. She hasn’t managed to correlate her actions with their consequences just yet, and when she can figure out which suits her best, we’ll go through the motions.
Alex wasn’t happy on her first day back: no friends in her class, and she announced her french teacher wasn’t great. But she’s rational in her expectations and has realised it’s a chance to make new friends and do her best to gain the respect of her french teacher. This attitude makes me proud: it’s how we do what we can to rise above challenges that builds core strengths (and I’m not talking physical fitness here). She has more freedom at school and has days where she leaves school for lunch outside. These are all tiny baby steps to build herself up in a distance away from authority.
Thandi the Dog is a content addition to our family. At the age of 8 months she is full of quirks and habits and honestly- it’s quite amusing to see them. Between finding a seat on the kitchen balcony overseeing life from there while I patter about my kitchen, her full appreciation of a vehicle and trips anywhere therein, her need to sleep during the day within touching proximity of a warm body – she is truly like each of us in our household at some point or other.
As far as virus 🦠 related news goes, a fair portion of french citizens are vaccinated, so health measures have eased, and even the demonstrations by the french against ‘health pass requirements’ have slowed momentum. It’s more than customary these days for restaurant go-ers to proffer up their mobile phones with a QR code open for to be scanned as they walk into public places. As weary as I was at one stage about the vaccine, it has been proven to protect more people against c***d than not. The tally of people I have a connection with who have passed away from the virus and not been vaccinated is indeed telling. However, as a side note- I have been overwhelmed how divisive this vaccine stage of c***d has been. People in the public eye who lament the inability to continue their public concerts and such, yet imagine over-capacity ICU units has nothing to do with their business is quite annoying.
With that little dig at unpopular opinions, as I finish off with a wrap up of recent Facebook and Instagram photos and scribblings, let me just say that since I’ve been feeling a little in the doldrums I’ve taken to a little creative writing over the last few weeks to relieve the darkness within. Some writings I’ve shared on Facebook, a lot has been on a more impersonal Instagram space. The writing is dark and filled with some amount of sadness. While it’s true that we often write from a space of real lived emotions, these writings may not necessarily be as miserable as they come across: I am alive and healthy, I have so much in my life that gives me joy. It’s the little demons that have a creative way of escaping sometimes. Don’t read anything into it 😊
Strasbourg. July 2021
Aside from today being National Potato Day (somewhere in the world- we indulged in some commonplace spuds for dinner) today is also World Photography Day.
I feel like I’ve been saving this “Fruit Blossoms Hanging On A Branch” forever 😊
I love the way you can look into a space and it’s possible to seek out something unique and unexpected. How you can capture light and dark in one still, and alter the way it feels to the observer.
It’s poetic and creative and an art form, a lovely way of expressing a perspective.
Somber is the cloud that scatters listlessly across the horizon.
Somber is the horizon that reaches far into the atmosphere.
Somber is the atmosphere that brings about cool whipping winds and splicing rain.
Somber is that splicing rain that tumbles, that cascades, that tears through the season.
Somber is the season that brings about another change. A change that comes with whipping winds, ochre brown and dusty red leaves that tumble, turning the warm earth into a mulched coldness.
Somber is that mulched coldness that miraculously manages to survive the frozen tundra to allow the persuasive pink blooms to reach out for the sun, ever exploring, ever reaching for the warmth.
Somber is not that moment of discovering the warmth.
The warmth of a familiar face, a heart and soul that has travelled through many other seasons. The soul that was intimate with her own. The soul that had never questioned her. The soul that may have changed just as much, that had forgiven, for despite the ever changing seasons and stories, they had remained true.
late night last bell and i step onto the simmering pavements
green eyes, bronze arms, freckled chest, sandalled feet
a beauty to some
a whisper of the evening falls across
my bare shoulders, my chest still warm from the furnaces
a shiver between my plunging breasts
streets alive with bodies
bodies and bicycles
in the dark night
golden lights of restaurants spill out
like liquid nectar on a waxy honeycomb
streets alive with conversation
a throaty laugh swallowed
a piercing whistle for attention
conversations of kisses
couples intertwined, whispering
some kids run about
their late night fatigue seen in their weary feet
but a flirtatious deep chuckle escapes from the mouth of a perfectly heeled lustres-haired woman, centred between her adoring friends, she seeks out the approval of the restaurant owner as he escorts the smiling happy women to a waiting taxi
from this dark corner and that lit street
a girl appears
her clothes shimmer with nighttime sparkle
her eyes bright and evocative
a boy
and another boy
together
arms linked at their elbows
the clubs will open soon
the music forfeits its peaceful place
what was just a jazz, a craic, a piano
will be heavy, dark
a frenetic pace that fails to still the soul yet brings sheer delirious content
my heart; open
my eyes; open
my ears; open
yet my soul twists and turns
lay still, it will not
black, burnt, broken
.
.
.
.
What even is poetry? An expression of an idea, that actually doesn’t make sense?
There is nothing quite like some solid graft to settle a restless soul.
That, and a decent sunset on my favourite <coin>
The Threads That Tie
You dropped a line, a line of silk so strong, yet still so fragile, to find your centre.
You started your journey: you could go in so many directions and it was difficult to choose where to go.
Along the way, you encountered something special to hold on to. You rested. You nourished. And you knew you needed to carry on.
So you did.
You flew across that space in time, free, for a little while and then you encountered something else to hold on to for a short while.
You breathed.
You loved.
And you decided to change your direction.
Soon enough you encountered another thing to hold on to.
Here too you breathed.
You fed.
You danced.
You loved
And then it felt like you died.
So you continued on your journey.
For years and years you went around and around.
Up and down.
You made knots with other lines. You built an intricate web of mystic, of growth, of tales of glory.
You encountered despair, you encountered enemies. You lost your way.
You turned around. You went back. You found a way through these sticky paths.
You’ve built another base- it’s not far off your point of origin, but it’s not the same.
Now ready for new expectations, new challenges, you realise that your life is woven intricately around many other souls, each of whom have formed part of your path, yet it is yourself who is in control of your destiny.
Within this delicate, fragile, easy-to-tear world, you have made your mark.
I have made my mark.
Day by day
The seasons come to pass.
With an autumn glow in the early morning
And the crisp distant light in the dark days of winter
The sun continues on her path
To unfurl the leaves on spring
For a shady respite to the parched Earth in the hot lazy days of summer
For when we have travelled but a circle full,
We know that once again the sun will bring us food for our soul and body.
It’s a little early to be celebrating the autumn change but after a full year of running over this bridge, (I’m drawn to forest runs like a child to a cookie jar) I could share a cornucopia of photos I’ve taken. Instead I’ll just share a little demi-tasse of each season taken from the same bridge.
Pic 1: November 2020
Pic 2: January 2021
Pic 3: March 2021
Pic 4: June 2021
Pic 5: September 2021
Are you drawn to changes in seasons?
(I’m currently 2/3rds of the way through my exercise goal this year: one run per week. I’m currently managing 6 or 7kms each time. I also managed to run my first city running event this month, thankfully with Anton tucked neatly at my elbow to encourage me to keep running. The latter picture above is me near the end of the 10km race under the Cathedral).
I think that’s a wrap for today. I hope you have enjoyed a cup of coffee and a biscuit while I’ve kept you 😊. As you know, (or not- I might not have reached out personally just yet, for which I apologise) so many of my favourites have been tripping through my dreams and I do hope that this means you are keeping well. (It could also just be a case of wicked foraged mushroom meals, or late night cheese indulgences, so maybe I’m wrong?).
In any case. Love and Still Sunny Strasbourg Kisses,
Me
Xx
Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals 