Trask Avenue

So tomorrow we head out for a vacation, a spot of holiday as it were. We are jetting across the pond for a spell. Not like a voodoo spell. At least that is what I have been told. You know, I’ve always thought it weird someone somewhere once decided to refer to the Atlantic Ocean as a “pond.” Apparently they had a really skewed understanding of what a pond is. If an ocean is a pond, what does that make a pond? A puddle? And if a pond is a puddle what does that make a puddle? Actually, that is easy. A puddle is the unavoidable destination of my feet whilst wearing my best shoes and pants.

This will be my second break from the Blogosphere since starting this little writing/creative outlet/quasi-social networking/nonsensical experiment 11 months ago. The first was last August, but that hardly counts since I only posted nine miserable things in the first two months this damn thing was cooking. Okay, cooking may be too strong a word. How about breathing? Gasping? Actually, this is as good a time as any to shamelessly self-promote by popping in a random link from those days. Random link from those early days.

I don’t envision blogging from the foreign place across the pond. Oh sure I’ll have access to all the fancy North American stuff we take for granted – the interwebs, computer access to the interwebs, food, water. And I suspect I’ll even have time to blog from the foreign place across the pond since this is little trip is slated to score very high on the kick-back and relax scale. I anticipate lots of aimless wandering, reading, writing and photographing. Maybe I’ll even get a pic of me aimlessly wandering while writing down the name of the book I’m reading. Now you’re jealous, right? I know. It doesn’t get much more compelling.

However, fret not, dear reader(s)! I have actually sorta kinda planned ahead and drafted several posts which will pop up like magic when I am doing my best to not get deported. That is if I don’t screw up the scheduling dealy. I’m not one to schedule posts. I write ‘em and post ‘em. Have always been that way. For all 11 months. That, brothers and sisters, is a prime example of long-term behavior. Of course if I do manage not to screw up the scheduling dealy I still won’t be responding to the faithful among you who waste your precious time take the time to stop by and say something. So let me respond now: Shouldn’t you be doing something more productive?

You may be asking why any self-respecting person would jet thousands of miles over salted water only to spend a decent portion of time doing the things which could be done just as well from home. I see where you’re coming from. I feel ya. That is a legitimate question for which I have a perfectly legitimate answer.

It’s what we want to do.

Oh sure, a few things are planned. Or, as they are fond of saying over in that foreign place across the pond, planned. (Note the accent.) Undoubtedly a trip to the nearest metropolitan area to catch a speech thingy by the lovely Ms. Trask’s brother is on the docket. I am quite certain that will be followed by huge portions of food. I’m sure there will be lots of raindrop dodging and inadvertent puddle splashing. I would not be surprised if tea and crumpets popped up during the away time, although I have always thought “crumpets” was such an unappetizing name for something you are meant to put in your mouth with the goal of eating and presumably tasting it. Also, I would not be surprised if we ended up walking the moor. I play a mean poor man’s version of Heathcliff. Plus a foray into something called “The Lake District” is apparently on the agenda. From what I understand this bustling mecca of snazzy tourism is – are you ready for this – a crop of land with lakes all about! Exciting, eh? Hey, if an ocean is a pond and a pond is a puddle, what then is a lake? A retention basin?

So tomorrow we head out for a spot of holiday. And if I play the angles right, more inane blather will appear on these pages in the days ahead. Cheerio! (Not the cereal.)