grrlTravels

On broken lenses, kashi, and a restless spirit

It had to happen I suppose. As much as I ignored the warning signs I knew it was coming. Danielle left today. I had a whole big farewell planned. A well documented farewell.

Except that yesterday Z., either trying to be a big girl by standing up (one of her favorite things) or angry at Mama and wanting the things that most often take my attention from her (computer and camera), pulled over my tripod and the camera banged to the floor, the lens cap flew one way and the lens flew the other. Thankfully the camera still works. Not so thankfully I am left with one pitiful wide angle lens, my daily go-to lens being broken.

Therefore, no documentation of the heartfelt goodbyes. You will have to take my word for it. Everyone was misty. E. and I had the following conversation which is proof of the devastation.

E: Danielle is leaving?
A: Yes.
E: Why? Is she coming back soon?
A: She is going to visit someone else. I don't think she is coming back soon. Miss Shelba said that she can come back after a while to visit us again.
E: (sounding panicky) Why? WHY? WHY IS SHE LEAVING?
A: It's time for her to go. Other people want her to visit.
E: Are we going to get another Danielle?
A: Huh?
E: Are we going to the store to get another Danielle? Let's go to the store and get our own Danielle.
A: It doesn't work like that. You can't just go to the store and buy another Danielle. Danielle has to find you.
E: Well, when is she going to find us?

When indeed. He doesn't realize the profound philosophical implications of his words.

Speaking of things that make me cry I always get choked up when I vote. The bitter disillusioned part of me knows the utter fruitlessness of casting my vote. (The big picture never seems to change, no matter what side you are on, does it?) But most of me is very thankful for the ability to vote and have a voice. This morning as I was just about to enter my personal zone of appreciative misting Z. scooted over and knocked over the big board which said something... something... something... RETURN TO THE VOTING COMMISSIONER WHEN YOU ARE FINISHED or something like that. I think it was instructions on how to vote. I am very clear, though, that this sandwich board was to be returned tonight. Or else.

I miss the voting booths of my past with the little funny shaped levers. The new fangled booths have panels on which you press your finger (index for me although another finger could do in a pinch) in the little box next to the name and a red x suddenly shines up at you. I found the levers preferable and the experience better. I do think the glowing red button that says "Cast Vote" is superior to the big lever that you pulled down causing the curtain to immediately open. I always wondered if the vote was cast, the opening curtain making it appear that the mechanical lever had a single purpose. Oh, and in the new booths the curtains don't open--you have to duck through them. The opening curtain was a far more dramatic and fitting ending for the process of casting your vote.

The voting glow did not linger for long today. There followed a series of mundane errands including a lengthy and unstimulating trip to the supermarket. No tears there, just an urgent profound desire to BE ANYWHERE BUT HERE which was short lived but memorable. It happened in the bread/peanutbutter and jelly/ethnic foods/pickles and olives aisle. I see the upselling potential of PB&J in the busy bread aisle. Even the pickles and olives if I stretch. But buying bread does not make kashi, pickled herring, or canned black beans seem more vital.

All of this emotion occasioned a trip into the forest to regroup, where we threw stones and admired the loud "PLOP" of the ripple-y lake. Our first outing with Danielle was an invigorating hike through these same woods and we could see the floating dock where Danielle took a dip from our vantage point.

Ah Danielle. I hear you are to have a big adventure soon. I wish you well on your travels.