|Nothing like a view from the veranda at dusk.|
Last night, as we have every night, we took a few minutes to embrace our surroundings while on the veranda. Soon, this view will be lost to us replaced by other views I’m sure we’ll find appealing.
|A summer rose.|
It’s ironic how we become attached to our surroundings for these relatively short periods of two to three months. Even Marrakech, Morocco, although not our favorite place to live, had its charm and appeal. I think of it often remembering every minute detail, especially the household staff.
|Low lying clouds are a common occurrence on the island of Madeira.|
We’re both grateful that we have these posts to aid us in retaining the memory of places we’ve lived and experiences we’ve had. For me, writing them, imprints them into my memory in a way no other experiences have been remembered in my past.
|A local man we encountered on the road explained that these are fishing nets. He spoke no English but we were able to decipher a little of what he was saying.|
Add the constant awareness of photo taking opportunities and my memory acuity astounds me. Oddly, we can almost recount day after day from as far back as to our first foray into living outside the US in Belize so long ago.
|A unusual plant we spotted on a drive.|
When in doubt of an occurrence that may have escaped us, we need only search the archives to have the story retold in words and photos bringing every thought and feeling to the forefront to become more thoroughly locked in place than ever.
I wonder how I ever traveled in my old life without documenting my experiences. I only recall snippets of days and nights with memories of a few poorly taken photos now tucked away in a plastic tote at son Richard’s home in Las Vegas, along with a zillion other photos of a life lived long ago.
|Lush greenery, blue skies and the sea create a colorful scene.|
Tom and I took few vacations in our old lives, one to Aruba with friends, a few business related trips, a weekend here and there. So content were we with our lives at our lake home that we had no sense of wanderlust, no desire to pack, to fly, to feel cramped in a hotel room.
|The clouds rolling in over an older neighborhood.|
Most of our vacations were the now referred to as “staycations” where people stay home for a week or two leaving work behind, ultimately ending up working at home on maintenance related tasks interspersed with entertaining friends and family.
In reality, “staycations” were often exhausting, although rewarding and fun and we didn’t mind going back to work when it was over. Not the same dread one feels when “going away” on a vacation with the thought of soon having to return home.
Another reason we didn’t like to travel was directly related to the dread of the vacation soon being over which usually occurred in a big way by about the Wednesday before departure.
|Rooftops, power lines and terraced hills are a common sight.|
Years ago, I recall telling Tom, long before we decided to travel the world, that I wonder what it would be like to go somewhere never having the dread of leaving. And, I wondered, what would that “look” like? Would one go to an island resort and stay forever? It was an impossible scenario warranting little further thought.
And now, here we are, doing exactly what I’d imagined was impossible…never dreading a Wednesday, knowing that we never had to go home to unpack, never having to sort through the piles of mail from the overstuffed mail box, never having to plow snow piled high in the driveway and never having spoiled food in the refrigerator.
|Banana leaves along the road.|
No, we don’t jump for joy each day of our lives on this seeming perpetual vacation. In a very short time, we came to realize that these are the “days of our lives,” at times quiet and uneventful, at times filled with tasks and responsibility.
At other times, it’s filled with awe and wonder as to how in the world did we ever manage to “get here” and get past all of the painful tasks of unloading our lives of stuff and saying goodbye to those we love, who never believed we’d actually do it, nor expect we’d stay “out there” as long as we have.
|With few homes having clothes dryers, railings on verandas become clothes lines.|
The passion to continue on, continues on, surprising even us at times. Last night as we stood on the veranda, in awe of the view, arms wrapped around one another, we knew that wherever we may be, there will always be a view.
And, although we’ll always remember this particular view, a new one will soon appear in its place and once again, dear readers, we’ll be home.
Photo from one year ago today, July 26, 2013:
|Santina, our lovely cleaning person in Boveglio, had brought us a plate of these three delicious looking pie pieces. Tom, with his picky taste buds didn’t find them to be as delicious as they looked. I know I would have loved them if I’d been able to eat them. The remainder of our post on that day was describing how we purchase refills for our few prescriptions from a reputable A+ rated by Better Business Bureau, online pharmacy. Check out the post here for more details.|