Housework

 I'm not a fan. I think if I had a system - tried and tested - I'd probably be better at it. I think if I didn't stop/start my day so much, I'd be more disciplined in it. And I think if it was more enjoyable, I'd like it more. It's always the getting started. Once I begin, I fly through it and won't stop until it's all lovely. For example, today I tackled the bathroom. All the stuffs, throwing out and refilling and cleaning etc. And then I got side tracked and fixed that shower curtain that's been bothering me and it's wonderful now. Next was the kitchen, and that's all sparkling. And then I had to go out. So I've come home and I'm less than enthused to hoover and do my bedding blah blah blah. But I must. However, I'm in a mood. So it's a quick whizz around with the hoover, not the job I had planned. And then the bedroom. 

Clean sheets are such a good thing. I have a method where I do the duvet cover inside out. I'm short, so I can climb right in. Because I hate nothing more than the ends not being in the right corners. It's a rush job so I'm going far too fast, I lean over for the other corner and feel myself tipping over. But it's okay because it's a big bed. I must have got turned around somehow for the next thing I know the tipping is not stopping and I can feel myself falling towards the floor. I stick out a foot, an arm, a head, I shriek and land unceremoniously on the floor - where there are no clothes for once to break my fall. Now I am stuck in the duvet. It's a king size, I am not king-sized (contrary to my mother's opinion). I can't find where to get out, I'm also loathe to let go of the corners because they're a bitch to find again. I scrabble to where I think the opening is, it's not there. I have visions of paramedics bashing down my door, but unable to find me as I'm scrunched up in a duvet cover. 

Anyway, it's done now, I feel like I've done a marathon (this is pure imagination as I have no idea what a marathon entails). I guess I'll appreciate it later. :) 

7 hours 36 min

Seven hours and thirty-six minutes. Longer than some people's working day. Longer than a movie. Another half hour and it's the same time as a trans-atlantic flight. 

 And yet none of it was difficult. It was the right amount of serious, silly and stuff. 

I'm in a worm hole of looking at retirement and never in my million days did I think that would be a fun thing to do. I often say I have never made a major life decision - I have but I never think they are until the event is over. Yet this is a decision that has me armed with a notebook, a pen and a raft of ideas and plans. I can visualise it, which is my thing. If I can 'see' it, then I can make it happen. I can see it, I can see how it could work so well. And I'm invested. 

I'm full of words right now.... but none of them are for this blog. ;) 

Welcome back

Oh hello, it's me again. I used to love this page, blogging away all my words. But life goes on and we never make the time for the things we really enjoy when work is all-consuming and the words don't want to come out. 

But sometimes it takes a moment to sit and chat with someone and then all the words start clamouring to enter the world. And you still have a doubt if you're any good with them. But you try and there's a kernel of inspiration sitting there. 

When I really sit and think about my childhood, I know without a shadow of a doubt that it was a good one. I never had to worry about some of the things my friends did. And the same goes for my teenager-hood. My biggest concerns were hoping I'd done enough to pass the year, which boy liked me and who my BFF's were. Recently I've been recalling the years I was 15/16 with someone and what sticks out is how those years define me. There's a wild patch of discovery and then there's a maturity when the drama gets far too much. And a step back. Almost a reinvention of the girl I was. And she was pretty cool. It's obviously not who I am now. 

I've written a lot about how travel and experiencing new things has changed me and it's how it's not an Eat Pray love trippy trip but how if you experience a new culture, you get a new perspective on life. If you live by yourself without the trappings of adulthood, you should come away with who you are and what you like. And I did that. I realised that there were things I was accepting of that were unacceptable and I needed to purge them from my life. I needed to grow as a person, I needed to be happy. It's taken me a minute. But I got there. 

To talk to someone that understands that is an immense - and I want to use this word - gift. That is all. I want to use my words more, exercise my brain and do the things I want to do. It's so nice to be able to write again. I'm so rusty but practice makes perfect. 

 

Two weeks of music and all the stuff

 While I'm in a writing mood. Let me tell you about my festivals this year. Oh what a great couple of weeks that was. 

I saw Pearl Jam twice in one week. I saw the Pixies which made my inner 16 year old SUPER happy. I cried when songs where played because: Suzy. And I realised Covid did me a injury with the spicy stuff - turns out chilli makes my lip swell to epic proportions, like I've had ALL the filler. Amusing now, very amusing at the time. 

We were blessed with fantastic weather, but not the first day where a mini-monsoon came to town. However, it will be one of my 'stuck in the brain' memories. Rag 'n Bone playing Anywhere away from Here with sheets of rain falling onto me, steam rising from the previously hot earth. It seemed like I was the only person in that field of thousands. Korn at Download was a similar experience. 

(just took a moment to look for it on Youtube - does not disappoint. Now I'm in a RW wormhole) 

Thankfully we had a lovely tent all set up and were able to go and get changed and dry. And I discovered new bands which is always an awesome experience. I've said it so many times but festivals in Europe are a millions levels above the UK festivals. Food is varied, you're not limited to beer/cider/warm wine but Martini's! I drunk myself silly on Bellinis - well it came with fruit. The people are friendly, not drunken savages. The toilets are clean - Reading do you read that - CLEAN! And I had a bloody amazing time. And a mere 4 days later, we gathered at Hyde Park for Pearl Jam/Pixies and again, the sun shone, I had people around me who have known me for forever and still love me. Life was so good. And you know, it should be awkward that I'm the token single person in a sea of couples. But I don't feel that. I just feel really grateful and thankful I have friendships that run into the decades and also that I have friendships that FEEL like they've run into the decades. 

I laughed so much over those two weeks, really laughed, really spoke, lived. And maybe I'm over sentimental. Maybe I'm appreciative because of who I've lost. And our childhood has lost some big characters this year already. 

How'da like them clichés? :) 

Luvyabuh

 Whoa, so I haven't blogged since Feb. I think it's pretty accurate to assume I've been not in the place to do so. I have written though - old skool pen and paper. I have a lovely new fountain pen which makes me feel very fancy when I'm sitting at my table in the garden, armed with a new notebook. I've been in love with fountain pens since I got one for my 18th birthday, so I feel like I'm coming back to THAT girl who journalled every day. If that means the blogging takes a hit, so be it. 

But I suspect it's also because I lost my Suzy in February. And the contrast between losing her and losing Nhandi was immense. And I'm not sure which was worse, if you can compare as it's not really a competition is it? I am so grateful I was there for her at the end. That I saw her and held her hand and told her to dance so loudly. I haven't grieved. I know this. I grieved before she left us. Sat in my car and wailed after being so cheery with her so many times. Cried out in pain when she was told she only had weeks left. But since she's gone, my tears have been very private, my sobs catching me unawares. To the outside world, I must look stone cold hard. "Oh I'm fine" - should get it tattooed. But it's her birthday soon. Will that be the day I break? 

I miss her ALL the time... we shared so many Ali/Su jokes, I must have gone to text her a thousand times. I HATE that we'll never do all the stuff we planned for the future. And that's not a lesson in doing stuff in the NOW...because we did. I mean additional stuff.  I miss her humour, her 'aww chickie'... and her 'luvyabah' whenever she left.  Flip, I just miss her. I've also been angry at her. And yeah, I know that's one of the steps. This was not meant to happen. Simple as. I also didn't realise how many Suzy phrases I had picked up. This is amusing. Anyone for a parking hole? :) 

I have planned a meal for her birthday. Not a prosecco, chinese, laughing meal like our SAS tradition but a meal nonetheless and we will laugh and no doubt shed a tear but we WILL laugh. Because that's what she did a lot. 

Reality

 I have not been able to blog. Bloggers block must be a thing. I’m full of words that’s not the problem. I guess putting things down just makes things real and I don’t want things to be real. 

I don’t want to have to write “she is gone”, “my best friend died” and “I’m so sad”. 

But I will, in time. 

today

 Again with the not blogging so much. 

Today I get to have my booster jab. And there's just so much discussion about to vaccine or not to vaccine. And yada yada yada. 

I choose to. Now here's the thing. Historically, I don't have a great reaction to things like this. As a child, I reacted so badly to my first inoculation, that I didn't have anymore. When I was writing Matric, measles was travelling around and so we were all told to line up and receive some kind of booster. I didn't have that. Because - bad reaction.

As an adult, I've reacted super badly to the Hepatitis ones and various others. However, when the call came for my Covid jab I nearly ran up to the vaccine centre and here's why. Firstly, the reaction I have to the flu one is mild in comparison to the others. And secondly, getting Covid without a vaccine, seems like it could be a death sentence to me...what with my asthma and all. I would rather suffer with after effects of a injection (rarely has it gone over 72 hours) than be in hospital on a ventilator. 

Most importantly, that's my choice. It's my choice to have these jabs - flu and otherwise. I have decided that Covid would ruin my family as it is, if we weren't vaccinated. I'm not saying I won't get it - but if I do I'm hoping because of the vaccination - that is is a milder form that doesn't impact my life as it is now. 

I HATE being sick, I mean I'm truly the world's worst. Why would I inflict that on anyone. It's bad enough my asthma etc makes me want to scream in frustration, why would I add Covid to that mix. 

I went to a friends yesterday for coffee. She has a cat. I'm allergic (obviously) to cats. (it's milder than it was but still) so I took my meds, and I didn't end up not breathing. I mean, I had streaming and itchy eyes and my breathing was affected but not to the extent I would have been had I not taken something for it. 

D'ya see what I'm saying? Have it, don't have it. But for me, it's my choice to have that because I believe it's to my benefit. 

If it makes me a sheep, I really don't care. If you laugh at me because I'm wearing a mask, again I don't care. Because I'm alive to be a mask wearing sheep. Baa

Today I get my booster.. and because I have an interview this week, please dear vaccine gods, don't let me have a reaction. Which is probably what I wanted to say at the start of this.