Monday, July 27, 2015

It's the holidays....

How do I know?

I'm not at work.
I stayed in bed until 6am.
It's raining.
T-Boy is here.
I don't have the feeling of "Oh my word how far behind am I and what desperately needs to be done for today?" that accompanies my school day - and apparently every other teacher's school day as well.
I'm reading quilting blogs.
I'm blogging.
I'm spending too much time on other people's blogs.
The house is tidy.
I've found a new-to-me, utterly rubbish, American tv series to watch. (Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders - Making the Team 8)
I'm thinking about Rachel and Lori more. (I always do at this time of year, but I'm allowed to wonder about Rachel and how she's doing with school and whether she's found something to focus her great potential on)
I have cats around me, permanently.
I've started writing random streams of conciousness type blogs.
I'm living in jeans (I need to get a new pair today)
I'm thinking about the packing for the Scotty lodge - 2 weeks to go until epic road trip and seeing Nanna-in-the-window!
I'm starting to relax and to think about who I am and what I need and what I want.

Right now the answer to the last two is a large cup of chai.

Laters.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

And out the other side

We made it though.

Again, I am left with the familiar feeling of emptiness that ebbs away as time passes and life gets busier again.  I determinedly focus on the things I have in my life, the beautiful people, the excellent relationships, the joy and the laughter.  I try and avoid looking at the elephant in the room.

Right now, I am sitting at the dining room table.  The patio doors are in front of me leading to the windswept and wet garden.  The doors need cleaning and I must put that on my list of things to do.  I have recently discovered, (although I think it is rediscovered) GoogleKeep and it is being a great help.  Sometimes I feel as though I am thinking through a fog still - yesterday on the bus I couldn't remember where I was going, and I don't mean where in the town, I mean, which town!  I got to the meeting in the end and had a very professional time doing very professional planning for school trips that other schools will go on, with resources that we are developing.

Through the window I can see the rain falling, as it has done for the last 18 hours, just continuously coming down from the grey sky.  The trees are waving in the wind, the leaves shivering at the end of never-still twigs, attached to undulating branches, giving the whole a feeling of urgency.  The garden is a mess, prolific weeds bursting through, and it is typical that the first day that I could be doing anything about them is one in which I cannot do anything - not even spray with weedkiller.

The house is never silent, but it is at it's quietest. The ginger cat sleeps next to me, on the table, which I'm sure I have moved him from several times.  Today I am turning a blind eye to his being there, as he is still unwell, and is just seeing companionship.  The other cat is in bed upstairs, with J, who drove to the Midlands and back to collect T-boy yesterday.  T-Boy and the Ac are still in bed as well, but it is only just 7:30 on a Saturday morning, and they were all up late last night.  I was up late as well, I think we went to bed at around 2330hrs, but I can manage.  There are things that must be done.

The dishwasher is swooshing away to itself and the tank pump vibrates the floor next to me.  The rain drops onto the plastic of the patio door sill, and I am minded to check the camper and make sure it is dry.

I want to write every day now that I have the time.  I have had one rejection letter, and so that story needs work and then resending.  I'm not ashamed of the rejection letter - I'd be more ashamed if I had never tried.  So I am off to try now.

This kind of stream of conciousness post is very freeing as a writer, but probably quite dull as a reader.  I would apologise, but very few people read this these days.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Almost 6 years....

..... and it hurts like a massively massively hurty thing.

I feel like I can't do this any more, like I can't do another 17th of July. Obviously that's rubbish, and I will do it, because itwillallbefine and I know that.

The AC is having some not-counselling at school. He's ok, he just wants to talk things through with someone who isn't me or Jack or his Dad. He says to Mrs B that he doesn't want to talk to me about it at this time of year, because he can see in my eyes that it hurts. He doesn't want to talk to Jack about it, because he loves Jack and doesn't want him to feel unloved. He won't talk to his Dad about Rich because, well, it's his Dad. So he's been by himself. School have been fabulous though and supported him right from the first email that I sent.

I feel very rambling tonight. I haven't blogged for a while because I haven't had time/energy/inclination. I've been having some weird abdominal pain that I'm studiously ignoring on the grounds that I will go to the doctor in the holiday about it all. I want to leave it until after the weekend so I know if it's stress related. My Dear Reader doesn't need the details, but stress is a stomach thing in my family.

So.

I'm leaving this here because it feels as though I'm sitting on a plug, and the second I start to loosen it I'll be typing for a year.

The numbness is coming again. Grief is a bastard.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone so don't mock the spelling and I'll be back later to sort the layout!