Harvest

Hello there.

I think I'd forgotten about you. Or just pushed you to the bottom of the pile. There's been a lot in the pile of late. Legal shizzle. Worrying. Lie awake at night and count the number of hours till work starts again kind of worrying. It's not going to go away though. Not unless I give in - and I will never again be that scared little person who gives in to bullies.

Never.

Instead I'm going to join the local Amateur Operatic Society and ham it up at every given opportunity. I've cancelled my internet dating subscription. Decided I'd rather get on with my life as it is. It's made me (mostly) happier already and I only actually finally decided all of this today. The Minis are supportive and that's all that matters.

And as one darling person on twitter put it "They don't make Zimmer frames for two, y'know!". @rosamundi, I love you! Next London trip - you are mine for at least one gin-sodden session. Preferably with added groundling factor.

So today I took the Minis to Harvest Festival at the church I attended as a child, was married in and where both the girls were christened. It's utterly and spectacularly beautiful, so I thought I'd share it with you.

This is my Harvest offering. My first portion. Enjoy it.

 

And now, just for me, do as you're told :

Beach

I had a day off today. It was sunny and warm and I was looking forward to spending the day in the garden.

Of course, the neighbours decided that today was therefore the perfect day to finally start mending the fence which blew down in the storm FOUR FECKING MONTHS AGO.

Crash! Bang! Wallop! LOUD DRILLING NOISES! Crash! Bang! Wallop! MORE LOUD DRILLING NOISES!

And then the cement mixer started up.

That was enough. HairyGodlessDaughter was fresh out of hospital and recovering from her recent bout of meningitis by sitting on my sofa scoffing biscuits with her mum (NeatFreakFriend); lovely SingleGirl neighbour on the other side was in a foul mood and needed distracting - so off we went. To the SEASIDE.

I love the seaside. I love it during the winter months right up until the time the summer season starts and you can't walk dogs along the shoreline. Then I hate it. All squawking families, gritty sandwiches and shouting Dads.

Today there were very few squawkers or shouters, and no one pressed a sandwich on me. Instead HGD, Dawg and I paddled and collected shells from the sand while SingleGirl and NFF sashayed along the prom in the sunshine. They caused much more mayhem than we did, traffic slowed so men could shout at them from vans, an elderly gentleman told them they'd reminded him to take his blood pressure medicine, and a lady propositioned SG as she was coming out of Marks and Spencers.

We stuck to shells, sand and barking at the sea.

It was aces. Roll on summer.

Peace

The contrast couldn't be starker. From Rage to Peace in one easy step, right? Nope, wrong. It has taken many, many little babysteps, tiny tiptoes through the morass of despair, anger, irritability, upset and fear. But here I am all the same. Here after a Mothering Sunday spent without the Minis, yet somehow more at peace than I have felt for a long time, and I think I know why.

The answer lies outside. In the wind, the sunshine, the hail showers, the newborn lambs, the nutty rampaging dog and striding out along the ridge with nothing to do but try and capture it on camera.

So here it is, my poor attempt to show you what today gave me:

Then there was this: Spring Stream - Audio

PEACE OUT

Remembering Beloved.......

I haven't written anything for a while. It's been Christmas, and New Year and holidays and busy, but also there has been sadness. Grandpa, the most complex person in my family, died suddenly on the 18th of December. He was 93. He had had a chest infection, but he was not ill, or very weak, and so it was a shock to us when during the afternoon, he simply coughed and died.

It was a quiet ending, full of roast beef and whisky and contentment. The last six months without Grandma had been very peaceful for him. He read books for the first time in his life, became much gentler, and finally, on the morning of the day he died told Pa that he loved him.

How wonderful.

What a fantastic ending. If you have to go, what a kindly way to be taken.

We miss him. Particularly because he had begun to be such a lovely man again. Lucky us to have had that time.

Sad to see you go Grandpa. Sweet dreams.