We limp towards the last day of term tomorrow; the week peppered with school carol services and slightly forced festive parents outings. My children need a break from the daily grind and so do I. The midwinter commute, in the dark, with so much traffic it makes me want to cry! It must come to an end soon! I long for a sunny climate. With half my husbands' family now living in Dubai, reports of sun-drenched life aren't lost on me as we struggle through the British gloom. However...there are always cosy nights with candles and classic films and Christmas fairy lights. It's not bad.
Early morning walks on the beach, where now a few friends frequent and we walk and talk with the dogs going wild in the freedom of dunes and sea. There is a peninsula of sandy dune that we cover each time, which at high tide, with a cusp of pale sand, is so beautiful it makes my heart ache. It is my most favourite place, even in the cold and rain.
Pub lunches with roaring fires.
Waking up in darkness and having that internal dialogue about whether to go running or not. Shall I? Shan't I? Usually I do.
That keen knowledge that if I did yoga every day I would probably be a whole lot better at every element of my life. Why can't I make it happen? I think because to do it justice I feel I have to mentally commit and so often I feel like I am going to be interrupted by my thoughts...or the postman.
Our long-suffering postman. Now the Christmas shopping season has taken hold in earnest, I do it all on line and get deliveries every day. He must think I am a shopping fiend. He wouldn't be wrong.
Danish style Christmas decorations; ordering from Skandium.
Thinking about the future...almost incapable of getting past anything other than the few weeks ahead. The sameness of my life has, I see, made it difficult to see phases and changes. It feels very static. At times I love this. But at other times it is stifling. I look around me and wonder if everyone feels the same?
Wanting new glasses; lusting after cat's eye ones and then pondering if I can pull it off or if I will look like an old maid.
Feeling like an old maid.
Feeling like I am 17 again.
Failed attempts to meet up with an old, dear friend (one who has no veneer) and the realisation that life gets in the way.
Brooding feminism that gets fired up after listening to Women's Hour. I have stuck to that resolution. More on feminism later...
My husband and I away together to Bath for a night - celebrating 15 years of marriage :-)
Do what you do...
Reviewed by axiata
Published :
Rating : 4.5
Published :
Rating : 4.5
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