This uncertain in-between stage of preparing for something big is as much a part of it as the big thing itself. Why should these days be any less important? They’re the same amount of time, and the time is what you spend of it. I’m enjoying them despite their cold snowy ways. It’s good to have a second to breathe.
2 months until I leave.
For some reason I was thinking about my pilgrim costume from college. Too bad I won’t need that bonnet in Namibia. Definitely bringing it on the pilgrimage road in France though. I’m not seriously considering bringing my tutu and wig to Namibia, but I wish I could. Something tells me though if it is not proper to show my knees, tutus don’t stand a chance. I miss dressing up, but maybe wearing local dresses for special occasions will feel like the same thing.
Mardi Gras just ended in New Orleans, everyone with their tutus. I missed it because I split my journey to Namibia up by coming to Boston to take on the snow. The snow has not won. Next I will take on the desert. Muahahaha.
The first twenty lines of the Canterbury Tales begins my journey more appropriately than I realized. These lines sometimes pop into my head, as they do of any Westover student. I rarely return to think of what it’s talking about anymore since I’m not being tested on it. But. Once I realized that it talks about Aprill and that IM leaving in Aprill I had to know more.
Sparknotes [www.sparknotes.com/lit/canterbury/quotes.html] tells me:
Long winters and heavy snow falls in 15th century England meant a long time without traveling. Apparently it means the same thing in 21st century Boston because I have barely left the house since I got here, hiding from the weekly snow storms and MBTA nightmares. So when spring came people got the urge to break free, oh how I want to break free. Many would “goon on pilgrimages” when “hath in the Ram” (Taurus is in the sky, I’m a Taurus, woah) seeking both religious purification and an overdue vacation.
I’m not religious, but I seek a freshening up of my beliefs and values all the same.
Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
Thanna longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond, to Canterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke
That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.
Prologue (Lines 1-18) from The Canterbury Tales