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We nearly all have our share of the family curse, that urge to be preternaturally early for any event. My son has trouble with it, because he also hates waiting around. When he visited me in Warsaw, he did a fair bit of it: waiting for the twins to get over their horizontal tantrums about walking; waiting for the rest of us to get dressed; waiting for trains, ski-lifts, tour buses; waiting to get home to his beloved surf. He’s very glad he came to visit us, despite a damaged wrist acquired snowboarding that compromises surfing. He’s now waiting for it to heal.
This is my contribution to Paula’s Thursday’s Special: there will be plenty more images, so follow the link to her site without delay.
snippetsandsnaps 
Oh bless him, he looks like he’s going to stay the night in that first pic. Waiting’s okay if it’s to go somewhere exciting 🙂
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Not if it’s because of your mother’s disease. And that was en route to Auschwitz.
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I loathe waiting around, so I am very much a ‘just in time’ person. The OH however likes to be early. Very early.
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So how do you a accommodate these contradictory desires??
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Mmmm… perhaps best not to divulge that on a public forum 😉
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Great captures, and I can identify with the need not to be late(I am always early for appointments) and the hatred of waiting!! I abhor waiting!
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Pingback: THURSDAY’S SPECIAL: WAITING | Lost in Translation
I like his face even though it is not a very happy one 😀 Excellent captures, Meg. May he heal soon and well. Happy Easter to you and your family!
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And to you and yours. He sees the doctor again on Friday, having captured the Easter surf, even though winged. His birthday gave him some good waves. His face is happy tonight! (Years ago one of my friends asked me, about a photo of him on my wall, “Who’s that man with smouldering good looks?”)
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Such resigned body language! I feel for him (I’m a bit like that too).
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LOVE that last one! 🙂 Mick is the world’s worst ‘wait abouter’ so his trips to Poland were often a slow torture for him. Dance away, my lovely! 🙂 🙂
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I DON’T dance. I have no sense of rhythm. The only time I’ve ever felt the dance I had my eyes closed and I was dancing alone at a new age weekend in the bush. But I listen with pleasure and arhythmic foot-tapping. That’s tomorrow.
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Lost in a time warp (or I should be 🙂 🙂 )
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Poor Hugo. He would be no good with his Aunty Loise waiting around and waiting for her to get ready for this and that. And other things I won’t mention. Sorry he hurt himself. He was a big help to me tracking J down though a ways back.
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