To Friends of Aspiran

It snowed on Christmas morning in Covelo and again on New Year’s Day. Snow in Covelo is a pretty rare event.

I’ll take it as a good omen, which is my usual way of greeting any new phenomenon. It’s worked for me so far.
Since I last wrote about Aspiran a few more people have come in with late contributions, so that’ll be some extra sheets and pillow cases for weary travellers. I have to say I’m beginning to get quite excited about it, although to tell the truth I still  can’t quite imagine my life in Aspiran. All I can think of at the moment is all the things I won’t be able to do – like gardening and building; these physical things have been very useful in keeping me fit, but they also serve as displacement activities. Over here in the Wild West whenever I feel I ought to be writing a book I think of a roof that needs fixing or a bed that needs digging, and it’s so much easier to do something than to write about it.
I think what I must do, as soon as I can, is get the use of a small piece of ground somewhere outside the village where I can start a vegetable garden. Then it won’t be in front of my eyes, begging to be looked after, but still there to keep me active.
I have tickets to Paris for March 2nd (my son Will is coming over with me for a few days) and we’ll go down on the TGV to sign all the papers and take over the house. And then . . . .?
It’s quite possible that for the first weeks (or months?) I’ll be going slightly stir-crazy before I get my head into shape. My visits to the cafe will probably be quite frequent, but I do also have Teresa and Angel to keep me connected to the real world, and Patrick has promised me my first game of tennis in several decades.
I should sell tickets for that. The humiliation could be severe.

But of course that will all change as soon as people come visiting, and working. I look forward to that so much.

Thanks, all of you who made it possible. I hope in the end you will find it was all worth while.