My mom died 18 years ago today. On 2nd March. 

Yesterday she came to my dream, took the lead, sat into the drivers seat and drove us all away from here. Away from threatening war. Before that she helped to sort all the endless heaps of books, selling most of them for pretty substantial heap of cash. Then sorted all clothes, sold most of them. Then cleared out all the wardrobes, changed beds and dusted away. Clean line. Marie Kondo would faint! We were left one suitcase each and drove into sunshine, drove into south. Italy I bet. Because the story goes we are originally from northern bit of Africa where today is Tunisia, and very southern bit of Europe, somewhere there and it drags us physically towards Italy and France. Malta. Sometimes Greece. So my mom sat to the wheel and announced basta! here we go! The dream was so vivid, no sorrow, just laughter and excitement. Sunshine and summerbreeze. I did not recognise the place really because in the dream the location changed in an instant. The next moment we were somewhere with mountains, yellowish mountains. And the street ended in a T cross where we had options to turn either left or right. Mom yelled “yeeeehuuuu, we are almost home!” and turned left. Turned left into sunset and that was our destination. We were exhausted but pleased, gazing into setting reddish and orange sun. Peaceful.

We turned and there was finca like house, not quite villa, but a southern countryhouse with a nice view down to the sea. No neighbours. That is what we like. Secluded, but not too far from sea. There is no life without sea. I can give up everything but sea. I guess. Because I have given up, or lost, everything but can not breathe without being close to sea. 

The fact that mom came to my dream is a sign. She has been in my dreams last time 15 years ago when she congratulated me. Now she showed it’s a must to leave, to have a new start far away from home. Or, actually, return to our roots. I will do that saliva test one day when I am rich, me23.com or whatnot, to see if the story of our roots adds up. I am pretty sure it does because my mom does not look “caucasian”, she had pitchblack hair and deep tan, ridiculously bright green eyes. My grandpa had afro 🙂 which is hilarious because we only now realise it. I liked to play with his hair when I was small kid. It was the weirdest thing I had seen, nobody else had such hair! No comb could get through and he did not like me messing with it because it probably was painful 🙂 but he put up with it.

Myself I have boring features, potato-coloured hair, just like 99% of peasants in these parts of the world. Blue eyes. Pale skin for 10 months of the year. G cup, which translates into nude sunbathing as there is not always such bikini available :). 

I realised big brother is following us constantly. For quite some time I get ads in Youtube and Facebook and Tiktok in all the languages I know. All BUT my mothertongue. I have fooled the big brother to the exctent that it doesn’t understand who I am 🙂  I realised it just now watching some meds ad in Russian and right after that some travel thing in Polish. Amazing amounts of info that the modern machines can follow and analyse. How does Tiktok know I watch Polish videos in Facebook. How does Facebook know it can suggest italian, ukrainian or finnish content to me. Obviously we will be taken over by robots in no time. Well, scary. I was the last person within my family and friends to get so called smartphone. I had Nokia until the very last chance I could get away with it. Then I realised I need smartphone for taking photos for my workmatters. Big part of my work is taking pictures for proof. And memory because I have none. With broken heart I sent my last Nokia to retirement. All work got faster, all info moves now literally live if needed. Just like genocide in Palestine is shown online. Yet nobody does nothing because of those “poor poor jews”! Big brother is everywhere. Eyes are everywhere. In London on some random street crossing they counted 58 cameras. Big brother is watching you. That is why I miss my Nokia. 

Back to roots. I have selected some coastal towns now for some closer inspection. Will go down to Frejus, Cannes, Antibes, Nice, Cap Ferrat, Eze, Monte Carlo, Menton, and maybe all the way to Portofino. Well, that’s not much Italy there 😉 but that’s a start. Will have a long work/ vacation there searching for a house or anything that makes my heart beat faster. Maybe a flat looking over bay. Maybe house in the hills. Anything really. I bought my house here just because of the feeling I had when I turned to the back of the house and felt the master of the house from 200 years ago being present. He is still here. That’s another few hours of stories.

Stay warm and cool

XOXOX