Everest and the Toenail

Life in Kathmandu, Nepal and Beyond

A More Domestic View

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Instead of brick there is glass and beyond the panes an overgrown bush. Instead of a first floor bedroom there is a ground floor study. In place of a wooden desk there is self-assembled glass and steel one. I am looking at a swanky new monitor, printer and speakers dug out of a packing box. The music is the same, my fingers hit the keys, somewhat accurately, and words form on the page. One of the things I said I was most looking forward to when I got home was sitting in my study looking out at the garden. Well, here I am, surrounded by neglected boxes. It may be cold, grey and damp, but dreams never quite match the actual. It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that I realised the truth in that statement. Events, a party for example, never turned out as I imagined it would and disappointment ensued. I realised that the imagining of something was not a substitute for reality when comparing the two. Imagination is the very next best thing to consciousness, a first cousin, sprung from a similar lineage. I imagined sitting here, without the pleasing bush, but I am here, the thought made concrete.

Over the past week we have renewed friendships with the boys school friends, all here for the holiday. Most of them we have known since middle school when they all wore shorts. Now they wear wedding and engagement rings, beards and career worries. One thing hasn’t changed though. They have flowered into the most delightful, articulate and interesting people. No surprise there but a great pleasure to welcome them into our home, memories of Little League animated in our hearts. Somethings don’t change. Coming down this morning and finding a long, lanky friend passed out on the sofa for one.





Written by jamesaeoglethorpe

December 29, 2016 at 10:04 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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