My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and a tale of not really werewolves

Do you mind....do you mind checking under my bed? Did you see that the moon is full?  He asked.

Yes, I saw, I said.

Are you ever afraid of the dark? he asked.

I am, sometimes, I admitted. 

He nodded his head.  It's easy to be scared, he said.  But  there's nothing under my bed, is there? 

No, I replied.

I think I knew that, he said. And he laughed a little laugh.

His sister, though, approached things differently. 

You see, she had realized this important truth:

If you don't venture into the dark,

you won't ever really believe.....

that the werewolves......? 

Well, they exist only in your head.

 

 

 

Marrakech: and a tale of a broken heart

I knew from the way that he looked at her, that it was over.  That I had lost him somehow.  He had crossed over to that other place where 11 year old creatures with long locks were infinitely more intriguing.  For them, yes, for them, he would tell his best stories, enticingly embellished.  For them, just for them, he would dash up the mountain, pretending he was not out of breath.  For them, only for them, he would share his headset..watching, waiting to see……. if they smiled back, if they tossed their hair, if they looked at him out of the corner of their eye

As for me, I had become just…..just a mother.  Nothing more, nothing better, nothing special.  The one who told him to brush his teeth, to pick up his shoes, to do his homework.  I now lived in that grey place of regret over squandered moments.  The ones where I didn’t pay attention because I was too busy, or too distracted, or too selfish.  All those moments, now gone, when his best had been just…just for me. 

  

Marrakech: and an expat tale without seat belts

I was having one of those conversations.  The kind that goes like this: Weren't you nervous about moving so far away? How could you just leave home like that?  Weren't you worried it would be dangerous?  And what about your children?  I mean, you're not even citizens there......And afterall, it's not exactly like you were moving to FRANCE or .... [insert somewhere "civilized"]. 

Oh, I've had these conversations before.  The kind where I know that the person is covertly thinking....That woman's a little, well ..... CRAZY.  And then they make a cuckoo finger twirling motion near their ear when I'm not looking. 

But here's the thing:  No I wasn't worried.  Because you can look at the world in two ways. A place where you should always wear your seat belt.  Or a place where you shouldn't always wear your seat belt.  You can worry about the What Ifs. Or you can say I can deal with the What Ifs.   Because when you travel off the beaten path, bad stuff will happen (and it might be bad stuff that you have never even heard of before).  But good stuff will happen, too (and it's often extra good stuff that you could have never imagined).  *You see it's a law of nature -- the universe rewards you when you are brave.*

And after a while you get good, really good, at not wearing your seat belt.  So good that you choose not only not to wear one, but to ride on the running board of the car.  *You see it's another law of nature -- when you stick your head out, the wind blows though your hair. *

 
If you do, make sure to wave at everyone you pass by, even strangers.  They might think you're crazy.  But then again, maybe they'll wonder if they shouldn't just give it a whirl.

 

Buying & loving: Miguelina Jordan blouse & J Crew shorts

Freshly purchased. 

Miguelina Jordan blouse, all gleaming ivory silk, with high contrast black lace. $126 (marked down from $315) at the Outnet.

Mood: Coy glamour

   

Pointelle Shorts, only in black, of course.  $75 at J Crew.

Mood: Flirty sophisticate

 
Not buying (sigh, I wish) but loving: these Phoenix wedge shoes at  $309 at SoleStruck