Life in the swamp

sjoe. Its quiet today.
All I can hear, are the clicking clicking of fingers on keyboards, and the occasional throat clearing.
I look around the office, but try not to let people see that I'm obviously staring at their faces. I'm sure they must feel my glare.
I take a look at each person sitting in my immediate surroundings and each one of them tells a story or plays a part in my life.
Its quiet. I dont like the quiet.
Tuesday today which means, just 3 days to go until all of this is done.

joh.

Mother Goose says cheers

So its exactly 1 week and about 2 days until Mother Goose spreads her wings and rises up from her nesting place.
And about 2 weeks after that, that Mother Goose decides to move to a new continent altogether.

Looking back over the past 5 years that I've been roosting in this nest, I've seen storms. I've seen predators. I've eggs that have not quite hatched and I've seen other Geese trying to steal my chicks - but when I look back, I can only realise that this is the place Mother Goose was supposed to be living and breathing.
This Mother Goose started when this environment was a shell in an old run-down building. Where the entire 2 duckponds full of people sat in 1pond. Where entire flocks hadnt been developed or created yet.
The other ducks I've met drifting in and out of my pond area have almost all left an impression on my nest - be it a good one, or a not so good one.
There are the faces and quacks that I'd probably choose to forget, but more likely the faces and quacks that I'll carry with me - onto my next destination.

So as opposed to flying South for the winter, this Goose will be mirgrating North for hers.

And its a strang feeling. The last time I did this, I was much younger. My world was my oyster. I had no attachments. No commitments. No additional nesting fees to pay, or extra twigs and feathers that I'd gathered over time - that made my pond-life so much happier and more comfortable. I was a loner - and I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to.

Now, however, 10 years have passed, and re-nesting just doesnt appear to be as easy as it once was. I am responsible now. I am an adult goose. And I do things that other adult geese do. In fact, its totally un-cool NOT to be able to say, you have a pension and a medical aid. You almost look on others without these things with pity, that they havent MADE it in the Greater Pond, in the way you have.
I look back at the freedom I had 10 years ago, and I miss it.  I have always missed it.

But now, Mother Goose stands at a new precipice - about to stretch her achy wings. About to clean off her ruffled moth-ball smelling feathers. About to stretch out each webbed foot and get ready for a long (perhaps longer than usual) run up to the take off.
Its exciting, but daunting at the same time, and I wonder if I'll be able to get lift off.

I'm sure I will.

I'll take some helium with... just in case.

Mother Goose quacks at IELTS

Mother Goose, a native English speaker and English teacher... only scored 80% on her English Proficiency test...  quite a laugh really, when a good friend, who hails from the far east, and whose English ability leaves much to be acquired, scored .5% less than Mama Quack...
Anyway.. exciting etc.. 

Mother Goose gets hitched

So fancy my amusement at finally, after all these years of quacking and querying, Mother Goose decides to get hitched, to a pretty decent boy-duck. The same boy-duck that has stuck around for about 7 years, while Mother Goose was trying to figure out just exactly what she wanted in life.
While she was looking for the glammar, and searching for "The One", she appeared to have stumbled upon a little treasure that turned out slightly more important than what she realised at the time.

And now, Mama Quack stands, with 2 weeks and 3 days lying ahead, in front of a precipice of sorts as she embarks on what is, probabably thus far anyway, the most important journey of her life.
The dress is sorted, the venue is booked, the menu has been given the thumbs up. Her To-Do list grows by the hour, as she keeps thinking of the little things that still need to be done. Ribbon for this, marmalade for that. Guestbook here, nail varnish on that. Its mad - but she continues, because she knows that time does not stand still for anyone, no matter how important they think (she thinks) they (she) are (is).

Not only is the greatness of what she's about to do, lying in her little pond, but she's about to jump to another pond, filled with other types of ducks and geese, and although her boy-duck goes with her, the nerves that are, lie and wait and manifest themselves in the form of carrot cake and pinotage wine.

6 Allee Marie Antoinette, Marnes la Coquette, Paris.

Mother Goose's first home.

Le Radio encore

It would appear that after several familiar visits to Le Cinq - with our usual - 1 x Hoegaarden and 1 x Kir Peche, The Real Mother Goose has become a familiar sound on the radio.
The usual locals ask for a chat over the wireless whenever the Goose is visiting. Usually about the football - or how she felt about her team losing.

Perhaps tomorrow, we'll chat about something else?

nah... I dont think so!

Apparently, size is no object