Timestream

Yesterday was the first anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake. I talked about it with The Lovely Ange that evening and she was surprised at my lack of feeling for the significance of the anniversary. At work we all gathered in the carpark at 12.50pm and released white baloons into the overcast sky. White on grey. I wondered at 185 souls lost a year ago that day but mostly thought "that would have made a good Blip". Callous vicarious bastard.

Maybe. But The Lovely Ange is living in Dunedin for work and I miss her. Our broken home is still empty, apart from a bucket of broken crockery and dust-whirls gathering slowly in the corners, for want of a caring hand to clean them away.

Our new house is moving towards completion; warm and freshly painted. Hopefully I will be inheriting a couple of pussy-cats so I don't rattle around too much when The Lovely Ange is not around. Many of my friends are still waiting for news on their homes, spectators of the insurance company wrangling. Who pays for what and how much can they avoid? The true debtors of this ironic sideshow are the families who have no home.

Last year I wrote a couple of Blips that resonated with me about fate. What happened and why? It just did; that's the answer.

I'm writing this Blip in today's tomorrow. Tomorrow I will learn that Marie Colvin has been killed in Syria, as she reported on that current tragedy and atrocity.

Events that give us waypoints in the eternal timestream of history. I find it hard to note one date as significant when you're trying to figure it out every day and when so many other people are paying so much more for what they believe in.