one morning in georgetown 2

it's been years. the old lyrics have the old magic. 

the land on which my blood spills.

i've crossed all the borders but.

old wine

we have dinner with old family friends. these are my parents' closest couple friends, i explain to HOM. 

it is a delightful evening. we remember their histories relive their adventures and recall their triumphs. they tell me how the young men courted the young women and we talk about dad with fondness admiration and regard. the company is convivial and civilized and the night ends too soon.

it is a great blessing, i think, to have people who grow old with you and do not become bitter with life.

chance encounter

in penang

on Penang Road at the chendol stall

i meet a gaggle of old friends out for chendol too

to think

we meet again after thirty-five years

at a roadside dessert station

it says a lot about

us and our appetite for sweets and also

how facebook helps us recognize long-absent folks

one morning in georgetown

wandering the meandering lanes (google maps!)

dropping by an art exhibition (a political one too!)

marveling at the gentrified peranakan shophouses (i like. i am philistine that way)

visiting a tripadvisor-rated museum (my own fault)

having a niiiice lunch (gentrified cafe, of course)

and jaywalking like a boss

ending when i run out of iphone battery

some writers

like ruth reichl

and lucy foley

must be rationed

because they come limited

and one must not

read faster than they can publish

taking stock

there! after years of waffling i finally am taking steps to taper down and to switch off:

• it feels unreal still. possibly because i still wake up and show up and will have to do so for another ten days yet
• i feel excited. lots of projects vying for attention in my head. shall i learn the violin? calligraphy? pilates? whither shall i travel next? no doubt my thoughts will settle into a more sedate jumble soon 
• i feel just a little bit apprehensive. what if i need care? who may i even ask? what if i lose my edge? what if i vegetate into oblivion? 
• i feel thankful. for life as a working woman and a trailing spouse and as a practitioner-educator with full agency and supportive colleagues and colleagues who have become friends
• i feel supremely grateful. i have met and influenced and taught and been taught by and i have been enriched stretched and fulfilled beyond every thought i had when i started 

now to be done with one kind of doing and to be starting on another kind. 

inspector lynley books - elizabeth george (1988-present)

like peter wimsey but without the toddling and tootling linguistic whimsy and longer and more convoluted plots hence more satisfying but ohhhhhh the side developments of the recurring characters are really detracting from the core business of murderrrrr and may well be the reason i abandon this series soon.