Winter is here, it has been very cold.
I have this feeling all the time that I should be packing or going through things to throw something away. Instead , we go on walks, I take a gazillion photos, downloading them, having fun editing photographs and posting them on Tumblr.
I take photos of buildings, parks and places, mostly.
I will have these photos, thousands of them now, when the day comes that I am in my new home in my new town in my old country and missing this place like crazy.
Some days I miss it and I am still here !
I will have a moment with someone who lives on our street, a person in the building, a stranger in the park and I will think, will anyone "back home" be as nice as this ?
No one is mean to us.
No one has ever been mean to us.
Isn't that weird ?
We are from New York and while they are vocal and brutally honest and very opinionated, NewYorkers are also caring and kind and funny.
But I often feel like I have never met one not - nice person here ... I cannot remember who was less than kind and sweet.
There are places here full of memories of Pup and those are the places I will find it hardest to leave.
As if I will be leaving him here, as if we would go anywhere without him.
But then I look at homes online and I see houses with gardens, I think that Pup should be with us so he can enjoy them, maybe a new puppy will be there instead.
Maybe a little cat will curl up in front of the fireplace and purr while we read in our new living room, in our new home, in the woods.
We are neither here nor there.
We are living here but thinking of there.
We have not packed, we do not know when we will go, we cannot start preparations.
So while I live in Buenos Aires, my thoughts keep finding themselves there .. looking for that new place, still enjoying the old place, new adventures waiting .. here and there.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."