Housekeeper's Diary
Today. A clear head and a cardigan inside out. A toffee-coloured cardigan as cosy as a hug, but inside out all the same. And a clear head, oh a blessed clear head.
Last night I slept from eight o’clock until Ste kissed me awake at seven with a cup of
In the brick outhouse in the garden, a pregnant cat is coming and going: a flash of marmalade fur dashing past our legs, her pregnant belly heaving, whenever we peek inside to try to catch her resting. The grass is sodden and the rich green ivy that used to drape the kitchen window, now brown and sorry. The wettest January I can remember.
Now I am lighting as many candles as I can find, tired of replacing the bulbs in our many lamps as they seem to pop daily, reminding us all that things aren’t what they used to be. That everything, even lamp-light is more transient than it was: another set of somethings to be disposing of and endlessly replacing. So now the coffee table is ablaze. A twinkling centre-piece, laden with a cafetiere, and all the books I have not yet read. And I am here, on the sofa, in my favorite place in the land, the internet. Able to see the screen without the words dancing before my eyes and smiling to myself as I set off on path dotted with pretty things, lovely ideas and rich inspiration. Remembering all over again who I am, and what I am for.
January is I think, sent to try us. A survival test designed to separate those who are willing to hibernate without resentment from those who barely tolerate the restrictions the month imposes. This year I have used January for repair. For restoration and repose. A chance to mend what had been broken during three years of the kind of grief that is as physical as it is emotional, wreaking havoc in my bones and reminding me everyday of what was lost.
Twenty-five days in to the New Year and I am feeling so much better, though the body blow that is our landlords decision to sell the lovely house we thought we could enjoy for years to come, is needling at my heart and spurring me into action, because sometimes action is necessary isn’t it? Sometimes we have to gird our loins, gather all the strength we can muster and get to work, hoping that the universe will acknowledge one’s efforts and reward them with a sprinkle of good fortune. There are lists to be made and furniture to sell, for as sure as eggs are eggs, the next house will not have the luxury of space like this one has, as every family sized house in the district is divided up for students and sold at silly prices, with only a few good houses left to fight for. There are references to be gathered, and books to get in order, a child distraught by our lack of “home” to be reassured and my own nerves to be constantly soothed by hope and possibility.
For now though there is a
This month then has been a buffer between the old year and the new one. An indulgence that cannot be granted every year, but once in a lifetime or so, might just be necessary.
Change is always unsettling for me too. We recently had to move horse and house when her stable closed. It turns out we found a much better place for her and ourselves! Sometimes change brings you to something that feels even better.
Thank-you Melanie… this is what I am hoping for, not just change but betterment. I am so glad you found it.x
There’s a country song that was popular a long time ago that had the line “sometimes God’s greatest gift is unanswered prayers”. I have watched you weather SO many things that have knocked the breath out of you and you’ve handled them with grace and been honest when sometimes things overwhelmed you-BUT you have always always always risen back up stronger and happier in the end. This is a speed bump, a big one to be sure, but I truly believe that because you are who you are, whatever is coming next is going to be amazing for you, Finn and the rest of your little family.
Darling Alison,
I hope that you and your lovely family find joy, peace and domestic bliss in wherever your new home may be.
Thank you so much for your splendid blog, I utterly adore your style of writing and you feel like a kindred spirit.
Caroline xxxx