Inexorable. I couldn’t get that word out of my mind as I drafted this post last Sunday while flying from Melbourne to Launceston after two weeks away from home. It was annual leave – time off work. (Well, almost.) Sweetheart Vivienne frequently says planning and anticipating something is often better than the something itself. I did look forward to this fortnight. But I enjoyed it more. Spending precious time with my darling ones is priceless. Two weeks sounds a long time. I fitted heaps in to it, but the days passed inexorably. And before I knew it, I was flying home, and what to me is my real life – work, farming, baking, emailing, and doing whatever it is that I do. I know from experience it takes a week or so for me to acclimatise to my real life. So it’s still happening. For the immediate future, Mole Creek is where I want to live, health permitting. It’s where I’m content. It’s where I’m me. But time moves inexorably on, and I know that one day, living somewhere else will be better for me. I’m okay with that. But I’m not wishing any of my Mole Creek time away. Because I know that a moment wished away is a moment lost, never to be recovered. And I want as few of those as possible.
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