Ditching the wheel...

When my cousin, Jessica, was little, she had a pet hamster.  It was a Russian hamster – I think its name was Hammy.  One day while watching Hammy (or whatever) running on his hamster wheel, and discussing hamsters in general, (as you do) Jessica and I had this conversation:

Jessica:  “Do you like my hamster?”

Me:  “Yes, I do.”

Jessica:  “He’s called a Russian hamster.”

Me:  “Yes, I know.”

Jessica:  “Do you know WHY he’s called a Russian hamster?”

Me:  “Ummmm….”

Jessica:   (rolling her eyes and gesturing with her hands in what looked like resignation)

              “Coz he’s always Rushin’ around….”

It’s a cute story and it’s always stuck with me because there are often times in my life when I have felt just like that hamster.  Rushin’ around.  Stuck on my wheel.  The daily grind.  I usually don’t even realise it until I see it reflected in someone else.

Case in point….

This morning, on our way back from breakfast, Big L and I got stuck behind a line of cars snaking its way up a steep hill.  The cause of the holdup was about seven cars ahead – an old seventies caravan being towed at about 10kms per hour.

It looked a little like this...

It was beautiful – white, with a bit of sun-bleached blue and I sat forward in my seat, straining to see it in all its rusty, crusty glory.  I was imagining all the memories that had been made in that caravan – holidays at the coast, trips to the mountains, the thrill of setting up home (if even for a short time) in something mobile – like a gypsy or a travelling tinker.

I was snapped back from my reverie by terse and clearly irritated mutterings coming from the driver’s seat.  Big L had a lot to say – all of it bad and some of it which I cannot repeat, but there was a “Oh, for Pete Sake” and a “What the *heck* is this guy doing?” amongst others.

We weren’t in a hurry; we were not late for an appointment, or a plane.  There was nothing pressing that needed his attention.  He was just feeling….rushed.  While mildly annoyed that he had spoiled my caravan moment, I could hardly criticise, as I realised that I have been guilty of the same thing lately. 

I was once again reminded of Hammy and his infernal little wheel and resolved to lift my head from the grindstone every now and again and enjoy the little moments that come my way.  

I also resolved to buy a caravan and travel the countryside like a gypsy.  But that could just be a phase.