Oh, I do like to be beside the snowside! No wait, I’m sure that’s not how the song goes..
Yes, I have moved house. Yes, it snowed pretty much all weekend. Yes, that made the whole moving house process somewhat..interesting.
Do you see that shape at the bottom right hand corner of the photo? That’s my car, shortly before I removed just enough snow so that I could actually open the doors. Oh, and shortly before it started snowing again, but properly this time. Real snow that means business.
You might have gathered from the above that I was, perhaps, a little annoyed by the snow? Somewhat inconvenienced? Irritated by the white stuff falling from the sky?
Well, you’d be wrong. I’m actually screamingly excited, like a toddler on crack, about the snow. I’m just pretending to be bored and irritated because I’m supposed to be a grown up, and that’s what grown ups do, right?But now I’m in my new pad, and it’s amazing, and this morning I had my breakfast in the conservatory looking out at the Narnia-like snowy garden, and felt happy like whoa.
More of The Unstereotypical Sailor
And there’s more! I mean..literally, here is a little more of the story I’ve been writing. May your Mondays be joyous and snowy. (If snow is your kind of thing, I mean. If it would make you joyous. If not..then I’m not sure we can be friends.)
But there’s something in her rich dark blood that smells the sea, and rises up to meet it. Is it too romantic to think that she is somehow in tune with him, thousands of miles away, brooding on the deck of the beauty Salamander? Shall we dare to believe that these two souls are linked, that they are destined for each other? I have introduced you to a male character and then to a female character, so I know what you’re expecting. But I can’t tell you yet whether they will even ever meet, let alone see in each other a kindred spirit, and embark on that ridiculous adventure commonly called falling in love.
The first sign he has that something is wrong is that his book starts to slide slowly across his lap. Yes, foolish boy that he is, he has been sitting there with a book of love poems on his lap, and reading about the thousands of years of love that have been experienced by other people. Who could say that love does not exist, when so many people for so long have written so much about it? If true love were not a real thing, wouldn’t the idea have been just a passing fad, wouldn’t all love poetry have died out long ago? He is aware that this is the fallacious argument that has sometimes been used in defence of the existence of God. He himself isn’t sure whether God exists; but if he could just have some proof that love exists, he would also believe in God. For him, that would be the miracle that would sway his doubting heart towards faith. And after all, don’t they say that God himself is love? It’s plain then, for this sailor at least, that God and love are a circular argument: not one without the other.