I was checking over the terms of my contract last night and I noticed that, after writing the blog for three years, I am now eligible for an all-expense paid trip to Kerguelen Island. I think we’ll go. Of course it does get a little cold down there but – hey – it gets a little cold up here.
Besides, Patrushka wants to go somewhere where she can wear her furs. Don’t worry, they’re all heritage furs. The original ermines were accidentally shot by Prince Kropotkin one morning in 1911 while he was out as usual trying to trying to assassinate the Czar. The Czar, riding by in his sleigh, noticed the little guys lying in the snow and brought them home for his little daughter to play with. My Princess Patrushka inherited them along with all the other truck – the Faberge eggs and stuff she leaves lying around the house right where I’ll stumble over them when I go out for a glass of chocolate milk.
So, where was I? Oh yes, my sabbatical. I want to focus more on my novel-in-progress, The Syndicate of Eternal Friendship, which had been proceeding at a snail’s pace lately. Plus I want to organize my autobiographical pieces on the blog and see if they might hold together as a book.
So we’re heading for dear old Kerguelen. The French Navy says they’ll have a launch waiting for us on Reunion Island, so we just have to figure out how to get there. It’s going to be great. No more distractions. Just Kerguelen cabbages as far as the eye can see. And the rabbits of course. And the scientists dropping by every five minutes for coffee with the Princess.
Oh well, you just can’t find perfect solitude any more. When it gets too noisy in our Quonset hut I’ll just go for a walk and watch the albatrosses carousing up in the grey sky.