status viatoris – being ‘on the way’/being in a state of pilgrimage
Spring is without doubt my favourite season.
The air of promise is almost tangible; the excitement of all buzzy and feathered things at being able to put the wintry struggle for survival aside in favour of more amorous pursuits, positively catching.
It does seem to have one adverse effect, though, and that is the turning of my Italian (and Albanian) friends’ and neighbours’ minds to thoughts of procreation.
And not even theirs… mine.
With my Little Italian Home almost finished (I am but a few doors and curtains away from a full pictorial exposé) and the Tigger/Toyboy situation still, by some inexplicable means, going from strength to strength after nearly eight months; the almost universal consensus of opinion seems to be that I should be submitting to the call of this most fertile of seasons and throwing together a bun for my oven.
I can only think that the snorting of too much pollen has caused such a staunch refusal to accept that nearly 35 is far too young to be thinking of motherhood.
Exceedingly much too young.
Ever so ever so young.
And anyway, as long as there are other women out there infinitely more suited for parenthood, I feel I am probably better off leaving the production and raising of the next generation in their capable hands.
Welcome to the world, Viviana Michi Rose. This one’s for you!
This is Status Viatoris, and anyway I only have one bedroom and have sworn NEVER TO MOVE HOUSE EVER AGAIN so no space for a baby unless it sleeps in my sock drawer, in Italy.