Snaring dandelions - the little things you learn
I am working in Melbourne again. A different project, a different customer. Yet, if there was a link to be found, to the past, to her, you just know that I was going to find it.
Piotr finished up as architect on the project today so we all went to lunch. I first met Piotr around 10 years ago when I was working in Melbourne *that* time. He worked in the same group as she did and it would not be surprising if they got to know each other reasonably well.
A woman at lunch mentioned her plans to work in London for a year. Piotr recalled women he knew who had done that - women who had met their boyfriends and settled down there.
Of course, I guessed who he was thinking about and I couldn't stop myself: "You are talking about ***, aren't you?".
He smiled and nodded. I offered that I had been rather fond of her. Piotr proceeded to describe to others at the table who we were talking about...
"Someone with few strong ties to Australia. Peruvian by birth, with some Italian and Polish heritage. An attractive woman in an unusual sort of way - short, long raven black hair. I worked with her on several projects and she was always good value, very switched on, very intelligent. She went over there to have a look around and get in touch with part of her heritage. So while she was there she met her boyfriend - now husband - and never looked back. She and her boyfriend stayed with my relatives in Poland once - I think they got snowed in for several weeks. My nephew, who was only 13, acted as guide and interpreter and in return they took him into nightclubs - he is a big guy so could easily pass off as an adult..."
End of anecdote.
Of course, it was not for me to ask further questions and so learn more about her life and her boyfriend/husband though, of course, I was more than a little curious to know more. So, I didn't ask any further questions and Piotr didn't offer any further anecdotes. Conversation drifted to other topics...
And so it is. After a 3 and half year drought, I finally learnt a new, bizarrely isolated and insignficant fact about her - that she was once snowed in while visiting a mutual acquaintance's family in Poland.
The odd thing is, I felt as if I already knew that. Of course, I didn't. I couldn't possibly have known that. I suspect that my insatiable thirst for information about her is such that this dandelion of irrelevance instantly accreted to the cobwebs that have ensnared my thoughts and quickly became indistinguishable from them.
And that, dear readers, is a good example of how my mind works. Or doesn't.