Thursday, July 9, 2015
...you like from the get-go. Who knows why.
I don't like it when people I like move to some faraway place. I don't like it at all. When you come down to it, it's quite rude, actually, as they've obviously not taken the sense of loss I'll feel into consideration.
(I also don't like that "Like" has been redefined, usurped. "Like" should not be batted about like a balloon. It's special. I'm reclaiming it.)
I liked Bellis the first time I met her. To begin with, I liked her accent, and told her so. And she said, "Why? Because it makes me sound like a nanny?"
She's a Brit, you know, and rather exacting.
So I think I said something like, "Oh no, nonononono."
Over the past six years or so, we liked walking and hiking together. Not that we made it a habit, it was very occasional, just from time to time. But some really special hikes -- like in Angeles after the fires, when we took a trail, and later walked on the highway, shut to traffic, as if we owned the place. The time in East LA, Haha, Icehouse, San Rafael -- oh, quite a few others, now that I think about it.
Her knowledge of the San Gabriels puts her up there with the 1%. She does her homework, and knows the history, the names of the trails, campsites, peaks, and valleys. A walk with Bellis is always an education.
And now she's moving to Germany. Pretty sure she'll like the change. More history to explore, mysteries to uncover, new peaks and valleys requiring identification. She'll teach the life-long residents a thing or two.
Over the years, I think Bellis and I had only two major points of disagreement -- whether her dogs should be leashed when hiking (Bellis: no; Karin: yes; I lost that one), and whether one could/should leave the shells from hard boiled eggs on the trail (Karin: yes; Bellis: no; somehow, I lost that one, too).
Oh yeah, one other: whether Bellis should leave California. I guess that means I'm 0 for 3.