Friend Colette and I spent our visit together during my visit to California. talking on the phone as she drove to her work in Millbrae. We didn’t see one another, just laughed and joked at great length. It was such fun. We were discussing my days in London which was accompanied by my sudden newfound popularity with men. I remarked upon the huge relief felt as I was able to leave the men behind and I was in Canada alone and safe. Colette sagely stated that: “There are men in Canada, Alexis.” That comment brought forth gales of laughter and: “Really, did you see any? ” She had recently returned from a family visit to Edmonton, where I will be in about a week and a half. Colette also had wisdom about my homelessness. She said that rather than calling myself homeless I should refer to myself as “footloose and fancy free” or perhaps as a stateless person. I suggested that another identity could be that of a white haired, pale Roma.(I think that this is the politically correct term for gypsies these days).
But the terminology reminded me of Rome and the fantastically interesting exhibit at the San Francisco International Airport (of all places.). I had gotten to the airport early and was at the wrong terminal. I made my way to the right terminal and on the way ran into “All Roads Lead to Rome.” On display were 17th-19th century architectural souvenirs. It was WOW and even better than exhibits I have seen at the British Museum of almost the same thing. It was so comforting because at this point in my life I have no desire whatsoever to even visit London. But it seems that I will not be cut off from culture because here in the New World there will be borrowed artifacts. It is most comforting. The exhibit contained a musing of Charles Dickens occasioned upon his visit to Rome. I handily took a picture of it and it will be attached to this post. It begins: “Here was Rome indeed at last; and such a Rome as no one can imagine in its full and awful grandeur!” Mr. Dickens ends his musings with this sentence: “A desert of decay, somber and desolate beyond all expression; and with a history in every stone that strews the ground.” I am not that fond of Mr. Dickens. I read two biographies of his life; he may have been a great writer but he was a hypocrite and treated his wife and mistress with cruelty. Sometimes one can know too much; I know too much about Mr. Dickens.
But speaking of travel, cousin Gail handily provides me with the climatic conditions in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. What am I doing??? It is now 32 degrees Fahrenheit, with the promise of light snow. Am I out of my mind? I did not pack my winter clothes. I am going to freeze to death. Gail also checked into Regina, slightly warmer but still brrrrrr. Oh well, much to do today. I am so disoriented. I asked Gail what day it is. She said: “Friday, actually it is Good Friday.” I said: “Goodie!” Now I am going downstairs for breakfast. Cousin Gail secretly purchased chunky peanut butter for me as she knew I loved it. I found it and said: “I love you!”
But back to Colette and our rambling conversations. The last one took place at the airport as I took off to Canada. I asked her what she would do without me and our lively discussions on the way to her work. I suggested that they were entertaining and probably better than phone sex. She said: “And probably less distracting, which is a benefit when you are driving.” Is not that funny? The book on Uncle Dave contains a quote from Colette. I mention that all of my female Dryburgh cousins have a quirky sense of humor. She said: “Did it ever occur that you might bring out the quirky in people?” She may just be right.
