Tuesday, August 23, 2016

I don't really have words

Since I last posted, we've been packing up Dad's house, we've had a family member (Geoff's brother) move in with us, and.... after we moved Dad to a retirement home, worried about his malnutrition and dehydration

he died. A few days after being hospitalized and finding out that he couldn't swallow anymore.

And then my husband was diagnosed with T1 diabetes, like our oldest son.

The busyness of normal life, and all these swirling crises, is keeping me from processing, I think. Geoff and I had a night away, and it was glorious, but overall I am just tired and very, very overwhelmed.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Tea is a blessing

It's morning, and I'm tired, but I'm drinking tea and listening to the snow-that's-almost-ice-pellets hitting the window gently, and wrestling with the eternal grocery list. My friend Alicia sorted my beads for me yesterday, and told me that I Don't Need Any More, which is clearly untrue, because I only have a very very large quantity.We have very different attitudes to having Stuff, she noted. She's a minimalist and does it well. I like to have lots. I'm basically trying to recreate the experience of my Dad's workroom- a whole room filled with fascinating things. I like to trawl my fingers through little tubs of sparkly things and decide what to make, and I get itchy if I don't have lots to work with. I'm easily bored, which is bad, but I think of lots of materials as fertile soil. Or maybe as toys. I need a large variety of toys to build really elaborate things, right? Because I've never left the mud pie/doll's dress/ trying to press walnut oil from walnuts with a hammer stage. I just like, fundamentally, mucking about. It's all play.

White gold choker with light purple crystals

And I am still ten years old and wanting all the shiny.

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Still working away at that

The Home Ec thing. It was complicated by a near nervous breakdown about my Dad refusing to move out for the whole of the renovations, which will, God willing, happen quite soon. And I've been very busy making jewelry and having mini nervous breakdowns, plus Geoff has worked 17 hours of overtime this week.

So I've spent a lot of time in a little ball of stress. I have started getting Nat to unload parts of the dishwasher about a quarter of the time, and the boys are doing more picking up, and generally I'm trying to increase expectations. I need to ask Nat and Thomas both to do more meal prep,

Time to re-tackle the laundry and all the other great stuff.

Thursday, February 04, 2016

I'm so sorry, blog

I feel huge guilt for the neglect, but the inside of my head is all eaten up with my shop and reading dumb articles that chirpily tell me how to increase my business and like myself better and balance my life plus learning how to run a store. and let me tell you that the balance seems to be heavily weighted towards chainmail, shouting at people, and not cleaning.

In that vein, I'm probably going to blow off school for the next couple of weeks, and put my children through a Home Ec course that they will hate a lot, but will leave them, I hope, able to do things like Unload the Dishwasher, Put Away Their Own Laundry, and Make Simple Meals Like Cheerios. I'm thinking about other skills. They're all eight and under, and we have this very hopeful chart of things children can do, chores that are age appropriate, but in practice nope. Still, I think I can also work on Vacuuming the Floor, Cleaning the Bathroom with Wipes. Picking up Their Own Damn Toys. What else should I put on the list?

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

One year in

One year after, the first year of Mum's death. This week has been like having depression plus nausea and just endless, body-dragging exhaustion. I am interiorly chiding myself. "Cheer up!", I say. "It's been a year, and this shouldn't be so physical!" And I mention half-heartedly or wholeheartedly that I'm feeling sad, or that I am going to go lie down again, But it's like walking through glue. I don't even feel that sad most of the time, but... I'm not sick, but the inertia is post-fever, and inside me I am still remembering every few minutes what it was like to sit beside Mum's bedside watching her breathe so quickly and so shallowly that it didn't seem anyone could remain alive on so little air.

And so I'm going to go heat up pulled pork and cheese for dinner, and then lie down again, and say "Lettest now Thy servant depart in peace.." again, without conviction, and wait for the grief to pass.

Saturday, January 09, 2016