When I was a kid I used to walk by train tracks a lot. I like trains. There is something solid and dependable about them. And they always know where they’re going.
As I walked by the tracks I used to pretend I was a character in a book – someone like Huck Finn walking along with my bundle of belongings tied to a stick, chewing straw and whistling even though I had holes in my shoes.
I liked the sense of adventure that was cast into the air by the tracks. The sense of the absolute vastness of the world out there, much wider than my little legs would have been capable of travelling.
I began to love trains because of my grandfather. He lived near the line that ran all the way from Glasgow to Edinburgh. When I had sleepovers I was soothed to sleep by the train trundling north, counting how long it took for the ch-chung ch-chung of the carriages to disappear out of earshot.
My grandfather marked his days by the train timetables. He always had his breakfast at the same time so he could watch the 7.18 on its way to Castlecary. It sounded its whistle just as his boiled egg bubbled in the pot.
In the evening he had a whisky as the 6.02 came down from Falkirk. Regular as clockwork, he would say as he raised his glass.
Have you ever thought that everyday events, commonplace things can provide the key to the meaning of existence?
Train tracks are synonymous with focus and direction for me.
Even when the track is forked, one shift of the lever indicates the right track to take.
At this time of year there are a lot of choices. A mental and physical unwinding that throws up many forks in the road.
Will we go down the familiar road and go on as before?
Or will we shift the lever out of the embrace of the familiar and plunge into something new?
It seems that the choices that arise as a new year beckons are very much like a train reaching a fork in the track.
I think of that child walking by the tracks, head full of wonder, enchanted by the eloquence of the railway line, not considering that any track could be the wrong one, knowing that any track followed will take her to where she needs to be.
Knowing that there is no reason tomorrow cannot be as good as today.
And I am suddenly ready to face the new year.
Image by Andrea Reyes at DeviantART.
My parents got me an iMac for Christmas. I am shocked. Stunned. Discombobulated. I needed a new computer yesterday but couldn’t afford one. I didn’t even mention how much trouble I was having with my old one to them but somehow they knew. I am torn between feeling guilty at receiving such an expensive present and a desire to jump up and down for hours while saying iMac iMac iMac.
This computer does everything. It is somewhat ruthless in the lure of its perfection. There is no going back once you’ve experienced iMac. I remember when I went vegetarian for a few years in my twenties, I constantly thought about bacon. The smell of it. The pure, salty goodness. There is no such clinging to pleasures of the past with the iMac. It is all-encompassing with its power to place you in the now and move you forward.
I no longer need to wait for ten minutes for Word to load. I can listen to internet radio and write at the same time. I can leave a comment on any blog I choose, even Blogger ones. I can take photos of myself in embarrassing poses and change the lighting so that the wrinkles don’t show. But mostly, I can edit and rewrite and organise all the stuff I wrote by hand in 2009. Can you believe I was such a Luddite?
I have been unexpectedly thrust in the midst of modern technology. It’s a good feeling. It makes me want to do something positive, something worthwhile. To help others who were experiencing moments of down-heartedness feel better.
This computer is my Deus Ex Machina, lowered from above onto the stage that carries out the drama of my life, helping me to solve what I thought was an insurmountable obstacle.
I am humbled. I am excited.
But mostly all I can say is iMac iMac iMac.
And pretend that I’m posh and in Paris…..
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!!!
Here is my attempt at an arty Christmas shot.
Looks like I had better stick to writing…..
Thank you for reading this year.
You are the cat’s PJs.
MUCH LOVE TO YOU ALL XXXXX
