home again, jiggy jig...

i am not quite sure why i did not read the signs, perhaps if i had i would have seen it coming... now i think back, before we left he felt a little off color, wasn't quite up to his usual tasks. i blamed my man, accused him outright of fiddling with bits he should not have been fiddling with. my man denied all knowledge of what i was referring to, i saw his firm protest of denial as guilt.

i harbored resentment in his direction, hoping my vibes would break him and a confession would be forth coming. my man stayed strong so i left for england with no explanation as to why Carlos, my trusty camera was seeing the world through blurry eyes.

after a few days in old blighty, i began to suspect Carlos of perhaps partaking in his favorite tipple more than is acceptable for a camera of his age. the shakes and the blurriness all pointing toward his decline, i began to fret, thinking of all the demands i had made upon his little gadgety soul, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.

alas the strain was beginning to show... if i had only taken time to listen, to not berate him for his blurry vision and the frustration it caused me. if perhaps i had not ranted a torrid of unkind names in his direction from the end of june until the fateful day in july it would indeed have been a different story.

but i did not, i was a fool to myself, and that foolishness cost me 'my Carlos'.

it was an ordinary day on our trip back home to a small island, the sun was shining. i am now thinking that perhaps it wasn't such an ordinary day for this day was in england and the sun was shining. so therefore i must correct that bit and say, it was an extraordinary day in an ordinary way when we arose, nothing out of the ordinary unless we count the large amount of sunshine, thus making is extraordinary. nothing that would suspect me to sense this was the day Carlos, sweet dear 'oh i do so need you' Carlos was going to have his breakdown.

one minute he was compos mentis, then next he was 'non'. no amount of apologizes, sweet talking or recharged batteries was going to get him to see straight... for one small moment he appeared to be responding, in that moment he found the words to tell me how he wished to take a little time away from me, to think things through, he wasn't sure the life i had offered him a few years back when he arrived as a 'mailorder camera', was in fact the life for him. with that he shut down, remaining unreachable for the rest of our trip.

i placed him in his padded pouch with little pink deer on and kept my fingers crossed he would come back to his senses and return to me fully in charge of his gadgety bits.

meanwhile i perused the two shots we had taken together before his meltdown.

dallying with Mr Hook on Branscombe beach in Devon

and my derriere as i bravely climbed a whole foot and a half off the ground

on returning to the shed it would appear Carlos is feeling a little more perky, he told me that the rest has done him good and he is perhaps willing to come back to work with better pay and kinder hours.

however having spent a few minutes with him yesterday it would appear he may think himself better but the results i have seen are telling me otherwise...

i fear Carlos, my trusty camera, is indeed losing his marbles, has seen much better days and although it grieves me to say it, (indeed i say it in a whisper so as not to reach his sensitive little ears,) it is perhaps only a matter of time before the pearly gates open up above, revealing the great Las Vegas in the sky for broken down cameras and he starts climbing the stairway.

she is thinking how lovely it is to be back and how greatly she missed you all ~ Tif