24 July 2009

Back at it.. Taas tööle..

On ammugi olnud.

It's been a while, one could say in several different languages, with several different expressions and while watching several different almost-sunsets. One could say, and I do say. As much as it is a foreign experience, the whole process of 'growing up' (more or less) and what seems to be steady work and the semblance of 'married life' (no literal implications there - yet) and everything else that silts through and through is somewhat of an exhilarating one. Sometimes sand in a current pauses momentarily behind a larger stone and then tumbles ahead; sometimes that grain may start up an island. No way to predict, and no wish to do so.

It seems though several factors beckon in every direction, even pull at times. If you choose to willingly follow or linger, it's still a choice and an inner committal. What would my initial words and thoughts have been if I could have seen years ago through a window the life that's positioned around me and in my wake? I'm looking at what I'm writing (more or less, as I usually don't think about it!) and the things around it: my work e-mail account for translating open (and causing me twitches as I wait for the next few pages to be drilled out before the next deadline as others continue to pile up) in the browser, along with two different Estonian-English dictionaries and a physical one by my side. I'm on the balcony with everything set next to collected sea stones on a table brought over from Finland's IKEA on the boat. Two bikes ahead of me keeping me company; one a silver retro German bike with the name "Лайка" on the side, the other a sportier Italian one nestled into mine, which is Tuuliki's. Coffee next to the window by my side, from where I watch the passing layers of cloud crowds in the meteorological airport of the sky, framed by greenery of basil, coriander, lemongrass and salad plants in aluminum pots. Armin van Buuren is buzzing in the background with last week's trance set, trying to softly drown out the sound of mining from the canyon across the road.

Would that have been easy to come up with, to interpret? What's through the window to another few years from now? I can't expect anything to be very similar in the future; I don't even recognize that as a minute possibility any more. What is constant are people: friends who I haven't seen in years though still write to, friends who I haven't seen in months and yearn for more time with, the few I keep friendly contact with in the near surroundings, and Tuuliki, with whom the future of everything is definitely very deeply intertwined.

I can propose some things that might be in that port hole gazing towards that which will be. Friends remain a constant, as does my partner. Living space will change, as will location, though not radically (looking for a place on the other side of the city, somewhat on the fringe and near the sea). Work has found the beginnings of its constant; I've become a full-time translator, and as the hours of experience grow, so does competency and further motivation to take on bigger projects in the field with hopefully sustainable and widening salaries. The only sure uncertainty is concerning our plants.. heading to Germany for a week at the beginning of August, which is another way to say that we're going to test their drought-handling capabilities. Estonian skies, letters from friends and paragraphs back towards them, multi-lingual dictionaries and a certain fiery blue-eyed someone born in the Chinese year of the dragon with earth (found out I'm tiger and fire.. not sure why that Google search came into fruition last night!) are the constants, the people and functions that interpret and define the rest of the lot of variables and such just flowing through.

Need to lighten this post up a bit.

Poop.

That's better.

Edasi, вперёд..