THOUGHTS OF A FRUITCAKE: By Carolyn Aldis
Last weekend, I went down south for a family get-together. I love seeing family and friends that I haven’t seen in a while, picking up conversations that we left off a year or so ago.
One of my friends has recently opened a cafe and I thought it was only right that, as I was in the area, I should try her amazing blueberry, lavender and lime cake.
As a cake baker, I am very particular about how cakes should taste and was pleased to find it was really good.
We went back to her house and I had an afternoon snooze. I was woken up by my husband, telling me to “Come and have a look at this.”
I groggily went and found him talking to her husband in their garage.
“He’s got a motorbike. I said you would like a ride on it.”
Now, I have only been on the back of a motorbike once and it was many years ago when I was a teenager, too young to think about the consequences and with no children to leave motherless, should the unimaginable happen.
So I was a little concerned about it as I went to take a look. It was a Triumph Bonneville T100 – and it looked super cool.
The owner was grinning, saying that he would be happy to take me out for a spin on it.
I found myself agreeing, telling my children that life is too short to turn down the offer of a ride on a motorbike ...
I had to keep reminding myself of my “motto” as we whizzed along the country lanes, thinking that life certainly is too short and feeling that mine was about to be cut short.
I swung from thinking “I’m not wearing a seat belt, if I fall off, there’s no protection” to “whoopee – I’m not wearing a seat belt, this is so cool.”
I kept peering up ahead and imagining a car pulling out, or the vehicle ahead braking suddenly and us both ending up flying through the air.
Going around corners was very disconcerting, my every fibre telling me to lean in the opposite direction.
Hitting the various potholes helped me to focus on using my knees to grip the seat.
On the way back, I relaxed and sat up straight, taking in the view and feeling a sense of pride as people stopped to look as we roared past.
It was one of the most terrifying and exhilarating experiences I have ever had.
In the evening, we went to a village hall, to help my brother celebrate 25 years of marriage.
In this day and age, where nothing seems to last very long, this is nothing short of a miracle and, as I looked at my brother and his wife, still so in love, I began to see some similarities between marriage and motorbikes.
There is the not knowing what’s around the corner, the importance of keeping in synch with each other, learning to hold on when the road gets bumpy, and how a couple in love cause others to stop and admire them.
Both are examples of great triumphs.