The Lizard of Oz

We had the kind of dream holiday in Australia, where we wanted to throw out the clocks. But Time, with its usual arrogance, kept ticking away. And in the last few days, we had to pack our bags.

How do you pack a memory? Should I take a handful of sand from the quaint Hillary’s Quay? Or a handful of kangaroo feed from the Wildlife pack, where we walked with the roos? Or something unbelievably cute like Dinosaur cookie cutters from one of those grand malls?

Should I pack a lil bit of Mary Anne’s delicious cooking? Or a bubble from the boys’ much loved bubble bath? Or a bunch of grapes that Greg’s growing wild in his backyard? Or a lopsided non-round non-foot Aussie football?

We got bags full of stuff of course, a lil something for everyone, and hordes of pix lovingly put together by Greg.

And then Mary Anne got me the lizard.

He’s silver and shiny, and covered with rhine stones, and he has all-knowing glassy eyes. I fell in love with the lizard. And planted a kiss on his cold sparkling head. Maybe, like a frog, he would turn into a prince?

But something even more magical happened. He turned into nothing. But he turned me into something different. I became more relaxed, a little wiser (or a little more silly), more grateful for just wide blue skies and purple grapes and hugs.

He made me realize that it’s not the things I saw that made me happy, but the people. And I can’t pack them back in my bags of course.


But if you’re really nice to me and leave me some nice comments out here, I’ll lend you my Lizard. And let him work his magic on you too.