Slightly Bemused writes:
My Little one has left me. Sadly she had reason. A really tragic event happened in her home town in a parade that featured a marching band she was part of. She said this was the first time in ten years she had not been part of it.
In Dublin Airport Terminal 2 (which by the way I personally really do not like from the inside), after a strange and exhausting and possibly dangerous trip to get a test to prove she could go home, she leaned to me and asked if I was okay. Being the polite person I am trying to be, I said no, but what should I write about this week.
She said Honey. The magical mystery of the honey pots. I was confused. She said they kept appearing everywhere. She turned around and one of them was there. I was told there are four, but they keep moving, and she does not know why. I did not realise this was a cause of concern for her. I did not tell her of the fifth on the top shelf.
Apparently honey does not go off. They found some in a pot in some dead pharaoh’s tomb. How they knew it was noy bad is a mystery to me. Like, someone goes ‘here is 4,000 year old stuff. Who wants to taste it?’
Mine is not 4,000 years old. I think the oldest is maybe 6. But they crystallise. And what you do to them is heat them, and they re-melt into liquid honey. But I turned my storage heating on to warm the cockles of a few travellers not used to our climes. Why waste the heat? So as I found them on the heater at the bottom of the stairs. As fluidity returned, another one changed its place, but of course I put one down before picking the other.
And so the march of the honey pots became a thing she did not understand, but fascinated her. She had no idea what was happening, and I did not realise it. But even in these times I am glad that I can still somehow bring wonder to her life. Even if it is slightly sticky when you forget, and honey overflows.
And then she asked me can she leave stuff here, for her next visit? I am not a proud man, love and tears overflowed.
Slightly Bemused‘s column appears here every Wednesday.
Pic by Slightly
I’d say you are counting the days until she can come back :)
She is not yet 21, but I gave her the key. It does not matter when, but she has the door.
Thank you, Slightly.
Oh Lord, you have me in tears too. She’ll be back before you know it. Big thank you.
nice, slightly you hit many nails on the head very often, thanks.
always enjoy your musings.
Very weird how nobody’s talking about that really tragic event
if it’s the same really tragic event I’m thinking of
VERY weird
I prefer not to talk about it here, for all I mentioned it. That was more an intro to my piece, and that herself also did not want it mentioned, Why I asked her, as it was very fully on my mind.
People I know, and very much people my Little one knows, were affected. But it is not being ignored, I assure you. Just here, now, is not the place for it.
But with all sincerity, thank you for the concern. When she can, if she wishes, she will let you know. For now she is leading a trauma group for her friends and others. That needs time. I want to give her that
Short and very very sweet Slightly