Maybe it’s because today is the 2nd Sunday of Advent, maybe it’s because I’ve listened to too much Udo Lindenberg earlier, maybe there is some other explanation or maybe there ain’t any. I’m feeling melancholy, like wanting to have time out, not away, not on my own, just less noise for a moment, acknowledge what’s going on. Feels like as if we’d have to put some kind of quiet room on the Dreamboat. For days like these.

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On weekends, I spend more time with Pádraig than during the week. There are (almost) no carers here, there is no time table. I enjoy the sense of drifting through the day with him. If I could I’d open the doors and the windows, put big bundles of incense in all the corners of the house and the garden, put on really relaxing music, switch on the fountains in the garden, and explore with Pádraig our senses.

As I said, today I didn’t get much further than listening to Udo live at the Hotel Kempinski (aka Atlantic) with Pádraig – and assuming that his taste in music hasn’t changed dramatically in recent times, he must have prayed very hard for that CD to finish soon, while I was singing along with the songs that accompanied me growing up, songs I couldn’t and can’t share with anyone since I started my second life abroad, songs that make me feel as if I’ll never grow up, never want to grow up.

Sadly, I haven’t got much of a choice here. Reason to feel melancholy, at times. Until tomorrow. Until ‘real life’ and purpose call again.