Moving necessarily requires sorting, so this has been a time of sifting though papers and possessions, trying to decide what will go where, and why, and what will be left behind.It is a cleansing experience but also a wrenching one. Items remind of almost forgotten times, some very painful. Most actually painful and then reminders of things not done. The schedule for the Tate boat minds that I did not take the boat and the tour of St. Bartholomew’s not taken.
One found treasure was the blurb written for the unseen anthology of the worthless school which was the subject a prior posting. It reads: “The book, ostensibly a biography of Alexis’ uncle, Dave Dryburgh becomes something else, replete with hilarious email communication between Alexis and the six nieces of Uncle Dave. He was a sportswriter, working for the Regina-Leader Post (Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada) all of his short life achieving fame in the Canadian Football Hall of Fame. He tragically drowned in 1948 but he lives on through this book. You will simultaneously laugh out loud and sob as you devore this epistle, the story of love, reunion, loss and redemption.’ I guess that was written almost a year ago. At this point it is not an accurate reflection of of the finished product, things changed, actually everything changed. Now I leave London to travel back to Canada. to finish the book where he did his work. There will be more of him and less of me and my cousins. In strange way he will travel with me. The train tickets for the cross country Canadian trip arrived yesterday, they were of comfort. It is hard to leave but leave I must for so many reasons.
Chris and I will meet later this morning. Then I leave Dolphin Square and go to Guildford for a few days before the mighty over the ocean journey. I will speak more of misogyny from Guildford.
