Are we there yet?

So there it is. The year is in the morgue. What remains is that mysterious non-time, non-year, that will be dedicated to nothing but nothing. I feel like a child waiting to go on holiday. School has been out for a millennium and so why are we not in the car yet?

I have paid my bills and my Christmas bonuses. The plumber came and moved the washing machine from the bathroom to the kitchen. (That was great until I realised it was not level, and I spent an hour trying to fix this with pieces of an old shoe box. I felt very pleased when the spirit level relented.) The locksmith has finally made the security gate secure, and took away the old lock that I could open by finger.

The house is a mess, but the crates are packed. I thought about Ruth as I ticked items off the list. “Leave, at least, the kitchen sink,” I used to say before a trip to Kruger Park, or somewhere. The crates filled up, mysteriously, with stuff that was not on the list. I am taking a whisk camping. Who knows when I might have to whip up a batch of hollandaise? Some sabayon? I made cardboard sheaths for my knives (a shoe box, I tell you, is a noble and useful thing) which I had sharpened last week.

(Why are we not in the car yet?)

I have made arrangements for folk to come and water the basil and the laurel tree. The basil might not make it – a Christmas beetle has been tucking in for the last week or so. I get a little morose when yet another large-leafed cluster that I grew from seed becomes mangy and beetle-eaten. Anyway.

Tomorrow I have to do nothing but pack and get a couple of sleeping pills. The blow-up mattress is only 153cm wide and darling and I have had, on occasion, a tense please-move-over moment in the middle of the night on his queen size, and even once on my king-size-extra-length. So it will be a new challenge, and I believe a member of the Z’s will help smooth the transition.

Tonight (funny) I am not at all tired. I keep on thinking of that Doris Day song… “seven… that’s the time we’ll leave at seven…”. Of course nothing else about the song is relevant. The journey will most likely not be sentimental; experimental perhaps, or an adventure. Or a complete disaster. Whatever.

(Why are we not in the car yet?)

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2 thoughts on “Are we there yet?

  1. Hardspear 18 December 2010 / 18:46

    Ag, Bettie, ek is so mal oor jou blog, ek wens jy post meer. En so by the way, hoe se mens iets het ‘n vrank smaak in Engels….?

    Liefde, Lekker Krismis en ‘n wonderlike nuwe jaar!

  2. sartres 18 December 2010 / 22:38

    You are all tonic, Ms Noire!
    Happy, memorable holiday!

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