
I've been a tad silent over the last couple of weeks, at least as far as this blog is concerned, and that's been due to a mixture of things, including workload, the reorganisation of my entire working life, and attending conferences - three in 8 days, something of a record. Meanwhile, my long-planned mid-winter excursion to Kerala, in order to plan my retirement, has had to be postponed.
GGF had to pull out of the trip. She has a sick relative in Jordan and needs to go visit. She misses her mother whom she hasn't seen in a year. She wants to go to a dentist and have some tooth work done at about one third the cost of smiling Britain.
At first, I was upset, but made a show of magnaminity, which I wish had been present in my actual emotions, but the truth is that this realisation depressed me so much that I went into a sulk for three days and refused to talk.
GGF became increasingly distraught. I'm not proud of this, I'm just reporting, OK? This is the bleeding edge of inter-fucking-personal-fucking-relationships, not a how-to manual, for fuck's sake. I just couldn't cope with the adjustment. I didn't want to go to the middle east, right now, I wanted us to go to India, for God's sake, far away from occupation, from soldiers, from checkpoints, and relax in a new world of lush lagoons and water-borne diseases.
Fair enough, the sick Aunt and Mum; but DENTISTRY? She's blowing out my long-awaited visit to India for a fucking DENTIST? OK, this wasn't the best reason to give me, it was very low down on the list, and
GGF has a charmingly honest tendency to examine every possible angle, however small. But, I was hurt, offended, felt rejected - even though I was the one being rejecting. Adults: you know how it can be. Children: don't do this at home.
Night three, I woke up at 4 in the morning, with the thoughts finally running clear in my head:
I am being cowardly. It is just fear that is preventing me from changing my plans. I must go with her. I can go to India another time. I realised that I had the utter luxury of being able to sulk over an opportunity many would envy. But maintaining that sophisticated level of dissatisfaction is my particular cross to bear...
So, although it took us another 48 hours to put things right between us, mostly because of my making the situation far worse by my negative reaction, the result is that over the winter break we're going to be in
Jordan (currently a stable oasis of peace, apart from the odd
maniac shooting tourists) and Jerusalem, where
GGF was born and grew up, which is currently a relatively stable place. I am actually looking forward to the experience.

And so we enter the fever of planning, ticket-buying, and stocking up on goodwill presents to take with us, as I prepare to enter the thorny bosom of civilisation, the fount of its contemporary suffering and travail. I'm looking forward to seeing Petra, wandering the old city where your man Jesus strutted his stuff, the Mount of Olives where my Grandmother's Bible comes from, and I may even visit the dentist.
Thank fuck they have agreed a ceasefire in Gaza, and let's hope it holds.