Just a few short days left here in Hungary, still not sure where I’m going next. Can’t wait to find out, though!
It’s been another busy week on the farm, which saw three new additions to the permanent residents this week – these two sweet girls…
…and a skinny little cat that showed up on the doorstep one morning with a deep, loud, horrible meow and wouldn’t go away.
She was starving, her body was all scrunched up and she had a funny walk, she seemed to have a permanent squint, and she showed up covered in dust and bits of stuff like maybe she had been locked up for a while. Cara took pity on her – feeding her, taking her to the vet, and getting parasite meds for her. She was in such a state I didn’t think she would survive. Cara was going to take her to the cat shelter in town but has decided to keep her instead. Her name is Coby, short for Yacoba, the Belgian girl who’s been doing the majority of her caretaking.
I got to do some more cooking, too. Ratatouille, mashed cauliflower, potato leek soup, tomato soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches with fried onions, garlic and mushrooms. Cara and Yacoba hadn’t had grilled cheese sandwiches before, so it was fun to introduce them to that iconic American dish. The leftover potato leek soup went into the bread dough for our bonfire stickbread last night – delicious!
Yesterday was spent finishing up a couple lingering projects before I leave. These were fun projects, a chance to be creative and make something new, unique, and useful.
In short, it’s been another lovely week. I love it here. I love spending my days working on things – making things, building things, growing things, transforming things, cooking things, cleaning things – together with others who are also working on things with the goal of sustaining ourselves and growing our little joint venture (well, Cara’s venture, really, but ours jointly for the time we are here).
It’s been so pleasant here, I can’t seem to be bothered about where to go next. It’s not that I don’t want to leave or am in denial or anything. On the contrary, I’m really excited about what the next leg of my journey will bring (which makes me nervous). It’s just that I’d rather spend my time enjoying this place – the people, the activity, the change, the newness of every day – than dealing with the logistics of planning a trip. I want to be there, wherever “there” is, I just don’t want to do anything to get there…or even figure out where “there” is, apparently. It’s as if the place were enchanted, tempting me to put off my planning and come enjoy any of the variety of delights to be found here.
And I’ve been okay with this up to this point. More than okay, really…comfortable in the thought that it’ll all work itself out. I’m going to go somewhere, after all. And it will be warm there. And the world isn’t going to end just because I don’t know where that is yet. And there’s always tomorrow. Now that I’ve written this all down, though…well, I just feel lazy, don’t I?
Right. Enough procrastinating, then. I have somewhere to be in two days. Time to decide where that somewhere is.
TL;DR: Probably overshot the line between waiting patiently for inspiration and procrastinating; enjoyed every minute of it.