Wednesday, January 5, 2011

becoming

quiet sleeps 
the house this night
after
songs sung,
food flung,
and patience won
by this humble 
Mama

I am 
becoming.
no strife
fills me,
chills me,
overwhelms
Me.
not tonight.

Worlds spin
around my orb.
I feel,
but sit still
content
to let chaos
be someone else's
baggage.

Don't misunderstand.
I sorrow,
would beg and borrow
that tomorrow
would ease
the wounds
and woes
for all.

turmoil,
so  often
a  bedfellow,
has left the hearth,
left my heart,
left my hurt
and left me 
wondering.

Wondering
how to live,
how to thrive,
how to believe
in myself
and life
when it is all
in mine own hands.

I go forth.
face the day
with clear eyes.
the past behind me,
the future
a glimmer
a piece of
a new day.

~

It is a New Year
and the first Wednesday
that I get to share
with the poets
and friends

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Goodbye Arnie

Pietersburg was a town. It had the same amenities you would find in most small-towns in North American; bank, grocery store, gas station. Nothing special. No terribly interesting tourist sites to explore. No handy game parks to scour for ferocious animals. No real reason to go there except for our present one; to sell the van.
We had hit our last stop with Arnie. We crossed the border back into South Africa and travelled to the closest spot to part ways with our last travelling companion. Pietersburg wasn’t far from the border and was big enough to support the potential sale of our van. It wasn't beautiful, but we hoped  it would fill our needs.
 We found a campground on the edge of town and set up camp for the last time. We picked up a few supplies, but were loathe to buy too much, as we would be carrying everything on our backs from here on out. Brett and I packaged and shipped off any souvenirs or other valuables that we wanted to keep, but did not want to schlep around. We needed our camping gear until the van was sold, but it too would go. My sleeping bag would stay with me, but our tent was a luxury that neither of us wanted to carry. It all had to go.
With our possessions thrown out of the van, we drove Arnie to a little carpark that we had heard about. A South African family that was camping across from us had suggested it as a good place to sell the van. Arnie was too old to try to sell to a dealership. Parking the van at the side of the highway with a sign in the window was presented as our best option. It had good potential to be bought and used to transport hordes of people as a local taxi. It seemed a sad fate, after all the love we had pumped into our dear van, but it was time to part ways. We needed the money and that was what Arnie represented now. He would fetch a better penny now too, as the South African family re-wired the ignition system. It would seem that it was not the starter motor at all that caused us to have to push Arnie for the last two months, rather faulty wiring. Within five minutes, they had fixed our ignition woes and installed a new set of spark plugs. No more push starts! Miraculous! It was like being in a brand new van!

Nevermind,” we told ourselves with sheepish grins. We would now get more money to line our pockets with and memories we could laugh about forever.
A big Thank you! was offered to our new friends. They were a warm hearted lot that you could tell would offer the shirts off their backs. That was, only as long as you were the right colour. We were definitely back in South Africa and the racial tensions were glaringly apparent once again. It was difficult to justify the strong beliefs that were everywhere, but I tried to  just be thankful for the kindnesses of the moment. I could not paint all the people I met with evil brush strokes just because I did not believe in their thought patterns, so I let it go as best I could.

We washed and polished Arnie better than he had ever looked and dropped him off near the highway for his Show and Shine. A box of wine was our reward and final celebration to a remarkable journey. It was also our Easter celebration and we dined like kings on instant noodle soup and tomatoes. The wine and conversation flowed until the thread was lost. At some point, my bladder roused me from a sleep I don’t remember falling into. Crawling out of the tent, I could see the sky beginning to lighten and I knew that it was going to be a long day. I was pretty sure it was not going to be a good one either.
The bright side is that the hangovers that punished us that day served to give us something to do with the idle hours of waiting. Laughter was scant and a painful ordeal, but I didn’t have much mirth as I crawled from shade patch to shade patch with groans or occasionally made the longer trek across the campsite for water. Food might have saved me, but the box of wine that still sloshed a little, offered its accusations by its shockingly empty state. There was plenty good reason for my sour and heaving stomach. No amount of swearing off booze would save that day, but blissfully the sun eventually sank back into the horizon again. I would survive. My prayers and dreams for that night centered on a speedy sale of the van, so that we could leave Pietersburg and its rowdy memories behind.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Welcome Home

Back from holidays
Phew!
I love visiting with friends & family,
but get me my coffee,
my vacuum
and lets suck the last of the life
out of Christmas
for another year 



That is my 160
to say goodbye to 2010
and the holidays.
I am hoping to get back into
some kind of routine again tomorrow.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

simple thoughts on life

simple thoughts on life
changing year, changing patterns
new fires bring in light


This is the last Wednesday of the year.
This is my last offering for OneShotWednesday.
I am hoping that bright and beautiful things will be ushered in 
in the new year
~2011~


Tuesday, December 28, 2010

The Last Journey

More goodbye hugs were upon us. Oliver faded into memory behind us, as Brett and I set out on our last journey in Arnie. Recollections from our last game drive in Chobe would be held close to heart for a long time to come, but Zimbabwe was in our sights now. It was time for us to shed Arnie, our metal companion, and set out on foot.
Bulawayo served as a resting stop to make a plan and regroup. We inquired as to how to go about selling a South African baby blue Kombi and were met with shaking heads. Try as we might, we would have to return to South Africa to sell the van. It was too complicated to try to sell a South African vehicle in a foreign country. Trying to save miles would add more headaches than we cared to fight with.
We took advantage of the city’s amenities  and decided to take in a movie while we were in Bulawayo. A couple we had bumped into on a few occasions in our travels was going to see “Babe”, so we tagged along. We grabbed popcorn and sank into some lumpy seats to let the African continent slip away. For two hours we watched barnyard friends climb into and out of trouble, and I for one was transported.
Upon leaving the theatre, I blinked at the surreal feelings that lingered. I was in Zimbabwe, Africa. Only days before, I had watched a pride of lions stalk a herd of buffalos across the plains of Botswana, yet had just had a two hour taste of North American life. Canada and home were over 6000 miles away though. God only knew how many more months it would be till I saw my native soil again.
An odd feeling of nostalgia niggled at the back of my mind as we walked the city streets back to our hostel. This was a city and despite feeling dated, it was closer to home than I had felt in a while. Thoughts of home and what waited there still left me with questions though. I could feel a frown around my eyes and shook it off as I re-engaged with my travel companions of the moment.
I was in Bulawayo. I was on an adventure of a lifetime that was transforming me with every mile under my belt and every African breath that I took. We were about to sell our beloved van and a vital companion in our travels. For now though, I rejoined the group’s energy sphere and walked this African city’s streets home. 

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