The cloud lifted briefly this evening and we saw the sun set for the second time this month. Half an hour later the rain returned, but we had seen enough to know that the sky is still there, right where it is supposed to be, and it doesn't appear to be quite as full of water as it has been of late.
Just as the sun has been struggling to make its presence felt in the time that we have been "back" and while much has happened in those two months, we have been struggling in our efforts to stumble across the merest hint of a germ of an idea as to just where it is we might want to live when we are between our bouts of peregrination.
"Struggling", because we are too comfortable right here in the Home of the Biting Midge to apply ourselves to the problem, and we use our busyness of recent days as an excuse for having failed thus far to address it. I suspect we were both deliberately denying that there is a need to do so.
Today on the drive home we made some progress.
We have been asked on many occasions on our travels if we are retired, and to that our response is succinctly negative. We reason that since we do not technically qualify for any sort of retirement income, we must actually be doing what we do for a living. With that thought in mind, it logically follows that when we are not doing that, that is, when we are at "home", we must be on holiday.
So we have decided that we need to find a holiday house.
One that is near the beach, and from which we can see sunsets, and mountains, and pine trees, and will make us want to come back to it from time to time. That's it. It took a hundred kilometres to work out that we need a house just like the one we live in now. Perhaps in another hundred we'll have figured our where it should be.
As we looked down from Anne and Jaap's holiday digs we saw a dozen houses that could suit. They were not for sale of course, or if they were it would be for a figure far in excess of our budget, but it is a beginning.
Perhaps it would be fair to ask just why it has taken a year to arrive at this rather simple conclusion, and while the answer is not entirely clear, I suspect it has a little to do with some sunlight shining through a break in the clouds.
Just as the sun has been struggling to make its presence felt in the time that we have been "back" and while much has happened in those two months, we have been struggling in our efforts to stumble across the merest hint of a germ of an idea as to just where it is we might want to live when we are between our bouts of peregrination.
"Struggling", because we are too comfortable right here in the Home of the Biting Midge to apply ourselves to the problem, and we use our busyness of recent days as an excuse for having failed thus far to address it. I suspect we were both deliberately denying that there is a need to do so.
Today on the drive home we made some progress.
We have been asked on many occasions on our travels if we are retired, and to that our response is succinctly negative. We reason that since we do not technically qualify for any sort of retirement income, we must actually be doing what we do for a living. With that thought in mind, it logically follows that when we are not doing that, that is, when we are at "home", we must be on holiday.
So we have decided that we need to find a holiday house.
One that is near the beach, and from which we can see sunsets, and mountains, and pine trees, and will make us want to come back to it from time to time. That's it. It took a hundred kilometres to work out that we need a house just like the one we live in now. Perhaps in another hundred we'll have figured our where it should be.
As we looked down from Anne and Jaap's holiday digs we saw a dozen houses that could suit. They were not for sale of course, or if they were it would be for a figure far in excess of our budget, but it is a beginning.
Perhaps it would be fair to ask just why it has taken a year to arrive at this rather simple conclusion, and while the answer is not entirely clear, I suspect it has a little to do with some sunlight shining through a break in the clouds.
3 comments
I have always thought if you as living in a holiday house ... suppose you think the same about us.
Great shot!
Do you work while traveling? As a an artist or as an journalist?
Joan, we agree on both counts!
Carola, I paint when at home, and I once worked in a job which involved a lot of travel, but now it is just for fun. We don't count painting as work though!
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