I am gathering my resolve. I have two comfort zones – my college department and the tropics. This foray into Eastern Europe has been challenging in various ways, many unforeseen. I did not expect to find such a wide range of tuberous urinal affectation and I did not expect to fall in love. I have not written these last two weeks for I was honeymooning with my new wife and former research assistant, Anya. Her help was indispensable and I found I could not bear to leave her behind when my studies pulled me away, so I proposed. Between her village and Minsk, we were wed. Blissful days, oh, blissful days. But then. When I told her I must follow rumors of rub-urination farther north, she flew into a fit. First weeping hysterically and then raging. She had thought I would settle down with her and leave off visiting strange climes. I tried to make her understand my passion; the passion I thought she shared. I held out hope that after the first trip or so, she would come to love the life I lead, but it seems she would not make the attempt. On Day 2 of our train ride, she got off at an early-morning stop…with the dining car attendant. “I drank mead and wine: it flowed up to my whiskers, but it never entered my mouth.” I think I understand. Siberia seems like the perfect place to let my heart finish breaking and the biofluids of the Yupik await me. I know must continue, though everything within tells me to give up. I must screw my courage to the sticking place. Where is YOUR sticking place? Sunday Speculations.
Posted on: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 07:10:00 +0000
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