speckle-ly me...

and so another year was added on sunday... i won't bore you all by recounting the past 26 years of my silly and rather nomadic existence... except to say, the journey goes on and the fossicking continues...

thank you all
for your kind thoughts and wishes
cards, flowers and phone calls
big hugs and kisses...

over the weekend, i had the privilege of enjoying the company of a few close friends (who were invited to a little evening of nibbilies and cocktail-like fun...) over a lovely sangria which i made for the first time...

[the sangria concoction: mix together in a large bowl or jug a bottle of fruity red wine with a packet of red grape juice; the juice of 3 oranges and add the pulp too; 5 tablespoons of brown sugar; chopped pieces of apples, pears and kiwi or whatever fruit that takes your fancy; include thin slices of a lime for a little more sprightliness... serve with some ice cubes and a slice of lime or a wee sprig of fresh mint as decoration etc...]

with some of us attempting to make sushi and cocktails or rather pinacoladas! we also had an 'ambient' acoustic waterfall --> which required us to save the flat from a persistent leak trickling from the kitchen ceiling on sunday morning...

before heading down to the botanical gardens where cheeky squirrels thrive and red poppies are just starting to open up their eyes

...at the garden cafe, f and i spent some time sipping tea with ruth and her grandparents and later, having dinner at her place near the sea...

"On my way home I walked along the wall with the dog behind me. My shoes were squeaking all the way. There were white salt marks where they were already beginning to dry. The sun was starting to come through the mist and it was not going to rain after all. I looked back and saw the sun coming out. The water was so white and so full of bouncing light that I could see nothing at all. It made me want to close my eyes and sneeze. When I looked into the shadows under the trees it was so dark that I could see nothing there either. When you're small you know nothing. I know the sea is like a piece of silver paper in the sun. I can see people walking along the seafront with ice-cream cones. I can hear the bells and I am not afraid of being German or Irish, or anywhere in between. Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it's not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you've been to. I'm not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don't have to be like everyone else. I'm walking on the wall and nobody can stop me." (Hamilton, 2003:295, taken from "The Speckled People")

i know i've quoted this passage before... but i'm quoting it again... because it helps me feel a little less nomadic.

posted by ~overacuppa~ on Tuesday, 24 May, 2005 at 16:52 hrs