Don't feel sorry for me, but.....

I have just realised that I want to be one of the boys...and the chances of that in this lifetime are quite remote. It's because the boys all know what they are talking about, and here I am, stuck in the shallow end, the kid that no-one picks for the team, the kid that I was, walking aroung the playground composing symphonies in my head while the others were playing "tick" and I just wasn't fast enough...(or is it tack ? In French in any case it was called "Le Sorcier"). I don't feel sorry for myself, though, honest! These symphonies were a bit good! Just wish I could have caugh up with the other kids, occasionally!

Reading the blogs of the people I know, I have no reference point for quite a bit of what is being said.

That's probably why I find refuge in my separate, private, blog where I know what is going on!

But I suppose that never being one of a clique has meant that I have led a most interesting if slightly unusual life. Not relying on mass migrations I have visited some remote pastures, more farflung corners on the earth and off the beaten track places, from which I retain those vivid images that fill my head with beauty.

This morning, I was sitting on my own in a dry river bed, picking stones that only I had ever seen in a deserted corner of Africa. I made a pattern with the stones in the sand as an offering to Nature. It was a real place, and it is a true memory. Time there was eternal and I had enough sandwiches and drinking water not to have to worry about eternity. I even -for some very peculiar reason- has my suitcase with me...Then my friend arrived to pick me up in a 4x4 and we resumed a journey to some mine or other, looking for diamonds...How cool was that?

See! I did warn you never to feel sorry for me!

Much love,

Jocelyne