Savouring

The sun has disappeared again for a time and I knew we should never have washed our winter apparel for storage in March. It happens every year and yet, every year I clean and put away with the same early, foolish hopes. However, in the end, I think that is what makes life what it really is. Does anyone else get a rush by putting away the old to welcome in the new? I often find myself caught between holding tightly on to things past (memories, places, people and such) and running head-long into the future with all the impatience of a toddler. It is then that I discover myself forgetting to savour the present. How often it is disregarded, our current existence in the moment! The very thing that creates the memories of the past and gives us a foretaste of the future: it's such a beautiful thing. It's like a cat napping on the couch with sleepy head bobbles and soft piano music playing through a little house in the Netherlands on a chilly Monday morning.

Peter and I have been endeavouring to appreciate and live in the moment of late. We have to move on, and because of that, we see everything that we have built up and familiarized ourselves to, these past six months, in a new light. Our next destination as a couple will be an entirely different culture, language and life.

                                                                         
                                                                                Germany.

We plan to live there for at least the next four to six months to work and live. It isn't the easiest thing to give up everything here in the lowlands to move to a place that, even though is only six hours away, is so different. It is our greatest hope that our little friend, Pippin-cat, will be able to make the journey with us but that hangs in the balance with future apartment rules. We will have to give up our first little house here and no longer will Peter be the able cultural translator and language genius. However, at the same time, we look forward to it! It is an exciting time and we are entering this challenge and adventure together. We are also terribly pleased to have our friends, Mogi and Kristyn, as our new neighbors.

Packing will begin soon. It is almost second nature and the only thing to be dreaded is the hollow sound of an empty house. Goodbyes will be said, with the hope that "hello" will be said again in six months time when we plan to return to Holland. (Or "There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins" as Peter likes to say...)

So, with the music still playing, and the kitty still peacefully sleeping, (now with clean paws and belly) and the chilliness of this Monday morning still seeping through the doors and windows of our wee home, the present continues. The future comes, but this moment was enjoyed.

The Frinsels in Germany