We are now packing the solar lit twinkling lights back in their boxes. It will be a year before the sun will light them up once again. Soon the cards will follow suit. All in the box or in the green lidded re-cycling bin. The last of the ham and chicken has been given to Milo. Post Christmas blues are on the radio and soon life will get back to normality. I love normality. Let the gas bill arrive in the mail box together with the usual Evangelical pamphlets to ‘repent and seek the Lord.’ A vain request for many, most seek salvation in Bunnings, Walmart or Aldi.
Soon the first cigarette will be lit up by those having made the resolution to not do so. Those tortured by food will get the first pangs of hunger, so…just a packet of marsh mellows will bring relief. The lure of the pink ones. It brings back sweet memories of the kids around the camp fire toasting them on the end of a stick. What’s wrong with that? We have to be able to receive those crumbs of joy from somewhere, anywhere really. Life is so short, they say.
We hope that the shortness of that life will continue for Schumacher. The world is hanging onto every word coming from teams of Hospital’s doctors. A whole pack of reporters have taken over entire hotels. Every nuance, every word is carefully weighed , rolled around and looked at again emanating from anyone slightly connected to the racing driver , all studied with the precision of a Swiss watch. Dodgy priests are now being scanned for a possible connection to the Neurologie department of the Hospital. Hundreds of cameras are trained on the room that he might be in. The slightest movement, even of the hospital curtain, makes headlines around the world. Angela Merkel has even offered words of comfort to the anxious world hoping for his recovery.
We quickly flick past a news’s item of beheadings of children in far away places peopled by those wearing black beards and medieval fanaticism. It is a difficult world. Just because the world turns over another year, so much seems to stand still. We too hope for the recovery of yet another young boy being King hit on New Years Eve. This was within metres of someone being killed by a King hit earlier in 2012.
Is it little wonder we want a marsh mellow?
When will we ever learn?