This is my son’s Nirvana backpack which I made for when we go to a music festival this summer. He’s made up with it, and gave me some chocolate to say thank you. We cooked a meal together today – he made a tomato and lime salsa and I made veggie wraps. The day has been a total wash out and so we have been homely and I put in a few hours’ work on the backpack amongst general drudgery, housewifery and domesticity. And I don’t mind if there’s smiles. If there’s smiles, if there’s laughter, it doesn’t really matter what we do and I can motivate myself to do just about anything for a general sense of happiness.
I didn’t write yesterday. I didn’t write the blog, didn’t pick up my notebook. A rare day. We took my husband’s Nana out to a local mill-shop to buy sandals and greetings cards she wanted and have coffee. It threw it down and she was worried about getting wet. She was worried about not getting back in time for tea, and we both stayed dry and got back in time for tea so all was well in the world. We looked at fabric and she told me about the lace bedlinen she used to make and we had a lovely hug at the end. Her husband passed away over a decade ago and she has been through a war and lost two children. I don’t know if I could cope with that. In fact, I very much doubt I could. When we were leaving her home an old man asked us if any buses were coming as he’d like to go to Blackpool. He was all dressed up and confused. His shoes were polished to a high shine and he wanted to go.
I have a small pile of work mounting up and the holidays are unforgiving – there’s no time, space or peace. My head fizzes with pressure, always pressure. Even when things fall away, even when I have do have time.
I miss my friends, I feel isolated, but I like the isolation when I don’t scrutinize it.
It’s been dark here all day. Cold, dark and not at all summery. As though the universe shut its eyelids gently for a while. As though it needed to catch its breath. I have held my breath at times today, not panicked but somehow not sure. I have expected something to happen and nothing has. I have held my breath in me with my teeth on edge. My shoulders tight and my chest tight. All it would take is a good dose of sun; yellow light streaming in. White light. People. Stimulation. Noise. A sense of purpose. Some days I shut down at bedtime having held it all in so tight all day and I wake up tight in a ball.