Last week, we studiously avoided mentioning that it may well have been our last Sunday spent lazily on Jacques and Maggie’s verandah, and that was so until Maggie decided we should remain in port for “just one more” Sunday and who were we to argue. Perhaps it’s superstition that has prevented us thus far from hinting that this may well be our last visit to Lagarde for some time as we plan to head off to the other side of another country to make a new home base for a while. After nine years that is a much more difficult thing to come to terms with than we would have imagined.
Under other circumstances we know we would be welcome to return to that verandah at any time, but they too have plans that do not involve staying here for much longer. Our chat for the last few weeks has therefore been filled with tales of good times had, excitement for the future, of new adventures, new houses, new countries, new beginnings in a sense. Perhaps all the while this has been tempered by the ever so slightly grey clouds in the backs of our minds, the salmons of doubt possibly, and thoughts of all that we’ll miss about our little village family here.
Things like being bailed up by Jørn and Birgit as we waddled our way home late afternoon, filled with way too much lunch, and being press-ganged into dining with them in the evening with barely time for a very intense hibernation between dates. Perhaps that’s where the expression “let the good times roll” comes from. If one eats as much as we have in one day, rolling is about the only mobility option available.
1 comment
It has to be a tough time for you. I know that I have a split personality, one side of my brain eager for new experiences and the other side enjoying the familiar. I'm sure you will come to a new plan that has highest comfort for you.
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