Of friends and road signs

Have I mentioned that I moved recently? I didn't just switch houses, I upped-sticks and resettled in a brand new part of the country. Well, that sounds rather adventurous...I'm still in the same province, just a bit of it I'd never lived in before. What I mean to convey is that this is undiscovered country. Unexplored territory. A whole new kettle of fish. And all of that is wonderful: I enjoy discovering, exploring and even getting to know new kettles of fish. It's all fine as long as it's recreational. It can get a bit stressful when something definite must be accomplished, requiring a sure and reliable path of travel to the end point.

I spent time this weekend with old friends from the town before the town before this town, which is just a hop, skip, and a long jump from here. I could have taken the highway, but when God's country beckons, who would chisel out with 4-series highways? Not I!! I used my friendly search engine mapping feature to find an alternate, picturesque route. The information I received was that the cost of a view would be an additional half hour of driving...at which I scoffed. I am a seasoned, veteran, hard core road tripper! 30 minutes? Bah! I laugh in the face of those minutes!

Things went really well, to begin with. I sauntered on four wheels. (This is significant, because I used to be the punch line of jokes involving lead feet) I had a rough idea of where I was at all times -- which is a comfort -- and the signs I was following didn't confuse me (well done M.O.T!) until I hit a snag about 45 minutes from where I was supposed to end up. The road I was on seemed to end, with no mention of the fairly major highway I was looking for. My two options - heading either left or right - were not mentioned on my search-engine-provided map, so I went straight through, which turned out ok. I found the highway, only once there, I headed west (because the friends I was visiting live west of me) only to realize as soon as my rear tires drove past the off ramp for the east-bound lanes, that I have to drive east in order to go west. Fortunately my westerly decision got me where I was headed, but with rather more than the 30 extra minutes I was warned about.

None of which is the heart of what this weekend was about. A dear friend - Serge - is celebrating another year of life. The usual suspects gathered (huddled, really) on the patio (the cold, cold patio) to do what we do best when we're together: laugh. And laugh we did, for not only did we have reason to rejoice with Serge's birthday, but her family recently moved into a beautiful new home; and to top it off, Bella brought a "+ guest" for us to meet. Blessings abound, and life is sweet. The goodness continued for me today when, in the parking lot of a grocery store, I happened to see Avery (Murphy Brown's mom), another very dear friend from my days in the town before the town before this one.

This weekend is Rosh Hashanah: Jewish New Year. As much as New Year is meant to reflect on the year gone by, we also look ahead to the promise of the future. I am not Jewish in practice, but the roots of my faith certainly are. At this time of year I always feel the need to give thanks for all I have, and to prepare myself for the time to come. There is a great deal of possibility ahead of me, and I have determined to head out and see what they are. Fortunately God has more reliable road signs than the M.O.T!