First I bought a brand-new secondhand book about the Karoo. Now I've just sat down in a bakery for breakfast and my first coffee of the day.
It's cold and wet and the sky is a low-slung elephant gray. (Pregnant elephant-gray?)
I stayed in bed until now, the whole morning, with my phone mostly off. Sleeping and reading. It was just what I needed.
I finished Barber-Smith's 'My Ancestor's Garden' (which I loved because of the parallels with my life, except that the setting was Limpopo province), then hurried more than halfway through Richard Paul Evan's 'The Walk', not without some tears.
I've listened to an Italian family of three at table 23 earnestly discuss family issues: "Oh no papa, but before she married she was still like that...".
Mama, with her designer wraparound sunglasses (remember, it's an overcast and rainy day), and perched like a little self-important bird on the edge of her chair, kept robotically scanning the bakery just in case someone heard her louder, obviously continental husband.
Daughter, first generation South African, raised her voice, not shrill, but knew her place: "But papa,....!"
On a personal note, it feels like I'm very close to realizing so many of my dreams (from writing to income) that I'm having every weakness, every crack, every weakness thrust into my face; I'm under attack, I'm being set up for failure - I mean why should I deserve this after ALL these years?
Bring it on....
[The number 22 is my good omen, hand-delivered to me a few years ago by God. Remember, He hardly speaks directly to us, so it has to be via signs and symbols, also dreams. Ask Him to reveal to you His particular love language especially, lovingly 'designed' for you. Then sit back and enjoy the ride.]