Well, it seems that the vagaries of the vagabond creates uncertainty and distrust - especially among those who are determined to assume "ownership", and "certainty" of the ground that we travel upon, and the space we travel through.
When I first began this journal of - perhaps - another journey, in February 2007, the house that I had been tenanting, paying rent - for over six years, had been sold, and the new owners - a young couple in their early thirties, full of the arrogance and enthusiasm of youth and fresh marriage; decided that that delightful cottage, un-assuming, but redolent with 50 years of subtle and caring echoes from owners and tenants past, should be demolished, bulldozed into dust.
The tiny rectangular patch of land held under Torrens Title, which market forces said was far more valuable than ambiance, the memories of yesteryear; and so, a "new" house - pregnant with the design and dreams of a future life - should be built.
And so it was - or - was in the process of being built, almost completed, as of November, last year.
I moved abode, hastily, without serious pre-planning. Just chucked everything that seemed necessary to my present and past life into cardboard boxes and moved. Found another. A roof, brick walls, somewhere to cook, to sleep, to wash and ablute.
But that is not what prompted this post.
There have been several other changes since this blog began. Apparently Google has swallowed Blogger, and is one of the reasons why there have been few posts since its inception.
I, with somewhat sheepish face ( though don't know why), have to admit that had forgotten how to "sign in". The paper record of the "Blogger username" and password had been hurriedly stuffed into the bottom of one of the tea-chests or cardboard boxes, whereabouts unknown - until recently.
Had also lost contact with my co-contributor. Apparently another vagabond. Had also shifted footprints, moved house. I can, and will - now thank him for giving me the vital clue which enabled me to negotiate my way through the myriad of mental hoops, gates, locks and fences which had been erected by the new "owners" of this particular piece of cyberspace.
While the cosmos knows not time, another year in the Roman calendar begins.
So - For the rare traveller who inadvertently stumbles upon these backwater pieces of writing - can only wish them joy.
For this day, and the coming days. For as long as one can read - or cyberspace exists.
5 comments:
Now I understand! And thanks for giving me full editor's rights. You know that this will mean that I'll correct any misplaced apostrophes without telling you? Fear not. Haven't seen any.
Vagaries of Vagabondage has been stuck in a cardboard box and forgotten for months and fortunately it hasn't been gnawed by rats or infested with moth-eggs. It's funny how we entrust Blogger/google with our precious possessions, without even paying them money. What happens if they lose the lot? I ought to keep backup copies. But there is always something more creative to do, and if not that, something more lazy.
Yet we vagabonds must trust something.
Yet we vagabonds must trust something.
That, Vincent, should be promoted to a post .. or something .. heh.
[cgtnnsyc makes no sense whatsoever - to me]
cgtnnsyc? Does it make sense to anyone?
Have, yet again, lost the letters, "special characters" and numbers of direct contact via cyberspace.
Travelling almost naked in the real world has its problems.
O, i used to know how to write letters .. heh.
it itsn't inadvertent and really it's through lady in red but i'm glad to have stumbled on your blogs
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