Today I spent most of the day moving heavy boxes, walking up long hills over cobbled streets, and counting things into boxes before carrying them again.
I am tired and my hips hurt. I am worried that I will burn out and won't make it through to the end of the month. I had forgotten how physically hard it is, and I doubt my abilities.
And yet tonight I saw a cavalcade of buses roll up Castlehill and onto the Castle esplanade, and it felt like magic all over again. As many times as I ask myself why on earth I do this to myself each summer, I see the scene before me, look around at my colleagues, and am amazed by how truly blessed I am. I work in one of the world's finest cities, and each year am plunged into the heart of one of the best festivals on the planet.
So I may not be around much from now on, other than to post the odd photo (you know I love odd photos). Any festival news and touristy shots will likely be over on my other blog. This blog will remain for incoherent rambling as well as images of my melting brain:
Forgive me if I am absent in comment-land. It is unlikely I will be doing much blog reading over the next month or so. Please stop by once in awhile anyways, as I will likely need all the cyber-hugs I can get.
The hill at Snurrom
10 hours ago