Friday, September 26, 2008
“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”
Spouse took a few days off work, and we went out this afternoon, dashing here and there through the drab drizzle of a grey sky, taking advantage of the time and completing little tasks that can only be done within limited office hours- which, of course, no mere mortal can attend to during a normal working day.
When we were ready, we splashed home through a trumpet of car horns, restless drivers and comatose traffic lights. I boiled some water and made tea, adding just a drop of velvety honey for Spouse's palate, and I served it with a hefty slice of moist pumpkin bread, courtesy of our fine friends in Maine.
A rather commonplace scene, save for the fact that Spouse had, for the first time, just registered to vote in a United States presidential election. While even that might be nothing out of the ordinary for those born and raised in this country, Spouse earned it after a decade of considerable struggle through the immigration process and much anticipation of one day being able to participate.
Life will sail on as before, yet intangibly, imperceptibly altered.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 1:45 PM