Because of fuck-upedness with contracts, I am not required to put on my 9-5 face until Wednesday.
Two whole days of freedom from the corporate gulag; Bristol is beside himself with joy that he has someone to share the long days with.
Today after I walked to the Chinese Embassy and emptied our bank accounts to pay for our visas, I popped into our rental property to ensure the departing tenants had removed all their possessions and cleaned up (they had, to the standard of 25-year-old males). It was strange being there on my own and I was blind-sided by memories of 2-1/2 years ago, when the Animator had already moved to the UK for work, and Molly and I lived there companionably for seven weeks. I will always associate her with that house.
Very, very few days go by that I don't think of Ms Molly; fortunately, her new dad sends weekly videos of the old girl cavorting on golden Californian sand, defying both her age and her incapacity to behave like a puppy. As we saw for ourselves in June, Ms Molly continues to enchant and engage everyone she meets. She is, it appears, the Benjamin Button of the canine world.
Fortunately, grief and I aren't terribly intimate but even in my brief liaisons I know it's an odd beast, coming out of nowhere to strike at the most inconvenient of times. Today grief reminded me how very much I miss Molly and wish she could be with us. But I know she is happy with her American whanau and that is that, and this shitty thing called life must go on. Perhaps I'm feeling a little maudlin because it's coming up to the third anniversary of the death of my other great love, Brompton. Grief seems to be giving me a good old shakedown this week.
The afternoon did get better: the sun came out, I finished a magazine commission and Bristol and I took a long walk up into the town belt. It was muddy as hell and thankfully I was wearing gumboots (Wellingtons for my British readers) but Bristol adored it; he ran and jumped in the long grass and after 10 minutes was covered in mud. With the sun-bathed city set out before me, I sat on a park bench and threw pine-cone after pine-cone time to the Boy Wonder who raced all over the field looking as though he had won the canine lottery. Tomorrow, on my last day of freedom, we will do the same.
Here for your viewing pleasure is the delightful Miss Molly, because everyone's retinas deserve a treat...
Two whole days of freedom from the corporate gulag; Bristol is beside himself with joy that he has someone to share the long days with.
Today after I walked to the Chinese Embassy and emptied our bank accounts to pay for our visas, I popped into our rental property to ensure the departing tenants had removed all their possessions and cleaned up (they had, to the standard of 25-year-old males). It was strange being there on my own and I was blind-sided by memories of 2-1/2 years ago, when the Animator had already moved to the UK for work, and Molly and I lived there companionably for seven weeks. I will always associate her with that house.
Very, very few days go by that I don't think of Ms Molly; fortunately, her new dad sends weekly videos of the old girl cavorting on golden Californian sand, defying both her age and her incapacity to behave like a puppy. As we saw for ourselves in June, Ms Molly continues to enchant and engage everyone she meets. She is, it appears, the Benjamin Button of the canine world.
Fortunately, grief and I aren't terribly intimate but even in my brief liaisons I know it's an odd beast, coming out of nowhere to strike at the most inconvenient of times. Today grief reminded me how very much I miss Molly and wish she could be with us. But I know she is happy with her American whanau and that is that, and this shitty thing called life must go on. Perhaps I'm feeling a little maudlin because it's coming up to the third anniversary of the death of my other great love, Brompton. Grief seems to be giving me a good old shakedown this week.
The afternoon did get better: the sun came out, I finished a magazine commission and Bristol and I took a long walk up into the town belt. It was muddy as hell and thankfully I was wearing gumboots (Wellingtons for my British readers) but Bristol adored it; he ran and jumped in the long grass and after 10 minutes was covered in mud. With the sun-bathed city set out before me, I sat on a park bench and threw pine-cone after pine-cone time to the Boy Wonder who raced all over the field looking as though he had won the canine lottery. Tomorrow, on my last day of freedom, we will do the same.
Here for your viewing pleasure is the delightful Miss Molly, because everyone's retinas deserve a treat...
Oh sweets, I feel so sad for you. But it's natural and sometimes it helps to have a good old cry! Hoping your little bundle of joy keeps you smiling (and I don't mean Martin!)
ReplyDeleteMarie xox
Hey hon, thanks for your kind words. Don't I always say August is a sucky month for me? But yes, I have my two boys to keep me smiling..
ReplyDeleteHw are you, anyway?
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