This is going to be a short entry today, simply because of the lateness of the hour and because my eyes are strained and tired. But this is story that cannot stay hidden. About two weeks before I left Berlin my beloved MacBook Pro crashed and I began having problems with the monitor. Needless to say I was devastated and knew I would not have the funds or the time to have it repaired. My initial reaction was to leave it behind but my gut instinct kicked in and I decided to bring it with me to Portugal at the very last minute, with the hope that the repair would be more affordable than in Germany. I should have known better though. Mac is Mac and no matter where you go around the globe, the repairs will be astronomical. True enough, when I went to the authorised dealer in Lisbon, he shook his head and was almost embarrassed to give me an estimate. So I went back to the hostel, heartbroken, but glad that I had my Lenovo as back-up. I tried firing up the Mac a couple of times but after the third try I simply put it back in my suitcase and let it rest in peace. That was almost six months ago to date.
When I unpacked the last of my things over the weekend, there at the bottom of the last suitcase was the Mac. I took it out, whispered that we were home now, and with the greatest of reverence, placed it on my desk in the office and let it sit untouched. The next day I plugged it in and charged it, not daring to open it for fear of another disappointment. Tonight I broke the cycle and decided it was time to take a chance. Lo and behold, it fired up as if nothing had happened! I can’t explain what happened or how long this will hold out, but it was like welcoming an old and true friend home. The writer and photographer in me are in party mode at the moment, because this is where I do my best work and some of the software I have installed here does not have a Windows equivalent. I am incredibly grateful to the universe for this moment.
Yesterday I told you about the wonderful flowers I received out of the blues. Each time I pass them in the dining room they bring a huge smile to my face. How can I not smile and celebrate their presence in my home? I have my own private sunshine and fountain of joy right within my walls. Well, today my other source of happiness came in another delivery van, but this time in the form of the farmer with my weekly box of fruits, vegetables and eggs that I signed up for (see? I have this hermit life under control). I heard the vehicle pull up outside the door and I stepped out to greet the perplexed looking man. Why is it that anyone who arrives at my door looks worse for wear? Granted, I would be too if I had to find this place… but I digress from my no-longer-so-short story…
As I stepped out to the gate and waited for whatever wonder was coming from the van, I watched the driver / delivery man walk back towards me. If I could have cued in cheesy Ed Sheeran music into the scene, and I would have, and then switched everything to slow motion. Good heavens and holy guacamole! This had to be one of the most devastatingly handsome men I have ever laid eyes on, and I don’t say this lightly as over-critical writer, mega-selective photographer, and well, skeptical woman. George Clooney who? I was so glad I was holding the box of goodies because I was having a hard time stringing two coherent sentences together in any language! My Portuguese seemed to have completely been flushed down the toilet at that moment. Stop laughing!
I stood there like bumbling fool at the gate long after he drove away and decided that the butternut squash and red apples in the box were no consolation whatsoever. But hey, my day was made after that. Even if I never see him again in this lifetime, it was a wonderful moment. And before you ask, no, I didn’t get his name.
The Amazon driver on the other hand… these two men could not have been more diametrically opposed even if I had orchestrated the entire scene. Whereas the better-than-George-Clooney fellow was suave, debonaire and clean scrubbed, the Amazon fellow looked exactly like Tom Hanks in Castaway! All he lacked was his coconut buddy and he would have been straight out of the movie scene. Tom, is that you under all that fluff?
My last van story of the day (this is definitely not how I planned this blog entry) was actually how my day began. I opened the office door and window to air the room and saw my neighbour across the road. He finally took cognisance of me and smiled. I introduced myself and realised I had to speak much louder than usual when he signalled that he was hard of hearing. For the past days, I have been curious about the white delivery van that hurls down the road and comes to their door around 08:12 every morning, give or take a few minutes, but I could’t figure out what what was being delivered. I assumed that since it was a delivery to an elderly couple, it was some sort of meals-on-wheels program. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The van screeched to a halt, honked like a mad goose, and then the neighbour waddled out. It is a bakery on wheels! He is a baker! barked my neighbour. The baker looked over at me expectantly but I shook my head and smiled. Just when I am back to baking my own bread again, I am not about to buy something, however, I think I will take a closer look tomorrow and see if he has any pastries or doughnuts… stay tuned!