Of Cottages--and Kings

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cottages--and kings--"

This little ditty kept running through my head the other day. It's one of those famous poem lines I had to memorize as a child. After a while I realized that I had it wrong - the last line is 'of CABBAGES--and kings'. (Methinks it might have been a Freudian slip). I had been asking myself why I was still at sixes and sevens two full months after the big move, and what comes to mind but a Lewis Carroll nonsense rhyme!

It's called 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' and is from 'Alice Through the Looking Glass'. Since I was thinking about it, I decided to look up the rest of the poem. Here's the first two stanzas:

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.


The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

I've never been a big fan of Lewis Carroll or of nonsense poems in general, so I was shocked to find that it was making sense to me! Everything is topsy-turvy and not in the place it's supposed to be. Even the sun and the moon seem to be in the wrong places.

I can relate to that. Since 1978 I've lived in houses that were oriented East to West. My new cottage is oriented North to South. I can't see the sun rise OR set. I always tried to do my morning devotions at sunrise and it was great to see a new day dawn. If I could, I tried to do my evening devotions at sunset - sometimes with spectacular displays as a backdrop. The last house was a great one for sunsets.

And that's not all: every time I automatically reach for something, it's not there and I have to stop and think where I've put it. Every time I write my address, I have to stop and really concentrate to get it right. I used to just jump into my car and it would go on automatic pilot to wherever I needed to be. (Okay, some days I'd end up in the wrong spot, but not too often). The first night we were here I didn't realize that I was sleeping on the wrong side of the bed because it was turned around. I ended up falling off in the middle of the night. And on and on it goes.

I really like my cottage and don't miss my old house at all - certainly NOT the stairs. But I have been disoriented. I'm sure it's not my age!

O course, sooner or later, this will all pass. In the meanwhile, I think I'll dig out my Alice books. I may be able to relate to her in a whole new way!