Early Wednesday morning I will be flying out of Tasmania to have an adventure.
As a child I devoured the Famous Five books and was eternally wistful at my own lack of adventures in suburban Springfield. Sure we built cubbies and forts and engaged in long running battles with those Glenorchy kids, but there were never any mysteries to solve or smugglers to catch. We had to content ourselves with billy cart races, stealing fruit from neighbourhood orchards and long lazy days at the pool.
But now as a grown up I am embarking on my very own girls own adventure.
I am catching a train from Melbourne to Adelaide on Thursday.
The last passenger trains stopped running in Tasmania when I was a child. I fondly recall the red leather seats and the dark wood panelled interior of the trains we used to catch and so with this romantic nostalgia in place, I booked my train journey.
I wonder how romantic an 800 kilometre modern day train journey will feel by the time I roll into Adelaide. Heh.
I am determined to enjoy my time at the Ceramics Conference, despite the constant thread of worry that is the backdrop to everything I do at the moment. I will be meeting up with old friends, as well as meeting new friends face to face for the first time. The advent of Social media has been wonderful for making new friends, and I am looking forward to meeting ceramists that I had only previously spoken with via facebook and twitter.
I am taking a fat visual diary with me and I expect to take copious notes while I am away, as one of the side effects of worry is that my already dodgy memory falls further to pieces. I lose my train of thought, I become uber-dithery and making a simple decision is extremely difficult. I just hope I don’t lose the diary.
Evelyn is still seizing and sleeping and it will be weeks before the test results are all back, and so we are in a holding pattern. Doctors and Patients stuck in limbo together. I don’t like being in limbo much, I remember the nuns terrifying me with their tales of all these disembodied souls stuck in Limbo forever. Poor souls floating through the grey, grey void because they hadn’t been splashed with holy water the instant they had been born.
At least I am not floating through greyness, my life is still full of colour and action. I am just more absentmineded than usual, more distractable, and more prone to wild flights of fancy as I dream up grand schemes to distract myself even further.
As Evelyn’s medical journey inches along at a snails pace my mind has sped up exponentially and I am dreaming big dreams. Which I suppose I should write down so I don’t forget them. Now where is that diary?