Slow Cow

I took Foro on a jaunt last weekend to see some friends, perching him in one of the little side windows of my Honda Jazz. We watched the cows out in the pastures as we drove through small villages and towns where, it seems, there’s a lot of cheese being made. I often don’t enjoy driving and want it to be over with as soon as possible, but this time it was nice to “take a Sunday drive”. I stopped as often as I wanted to: a coffee here, a coffee there. It was a bit rainy but it’s really starting to be green here. It was beautiful.

For once, I’m not exhausted. The last few months and even the whole last year has been hard on me, for whatever reason. I sort of forgot how to take time for myself, so I’m trying to exercise that skill again. I have a ton of projects to do, but none of them are really urgent, like I don’t need to stay up all night to get them done, so I’ve made lists and am slowly working my way through them, on my own time.

My partner needs some space to figure out some things. In my last post, I wrote about a could-a-been fatal accident we had. He’s realized that where he wanted us to go was unreasonable. He needs a bit of time to work his way through that. I send him little heart emojis from time to time, and we talk by phone in the evening, but for the most part I’m leaving him alone. He needs it, and I need to remember what it’s like to have time to think again.

There are these movements popular today: slow food, slow tourism. I, for one, support the slowness of cows, like the slowness we all need to think things through, and the time it takes to figure out what we’ve done and where we’re going. A road trip with some good music helps: