Ramblings

I have just lamented to a friend in an email that I'm not writing enough these days. So I thought I'd just sit down here, at an empty "new post" screen, and write about this moment.

I'm sitting at my desk, and the view from the window speaks of early spring. There's a colour associated with this time of year, which is on the spectrum where yellow and green meet. It's a damp morning, so the yellowy-green hues seem vibrant and zingy. It's a colour I enjoy in nature, because it's a colour of growth and newness, but I don't usually like it when it's reproduced in man-made items. Orla Kiely uses it well, mixed with orange and brown, but I saw some paper napkins in IKEA yesterday which were that same greeny-yellow, and they just looked very sickly. Nature gets away with so much in her colour palette that we can't copy.

I also see the recycling bin, stuffed to over-flowing, which triggers a little ping of frustration. Will my phone call to the Council have worked? Will someone come and empty it, thereby making space for the contents of the bags that are piling up in our garage?

I enjoy the view from the study window. It looks over our small front garden, and then a quiet driveway. Beyond that, there's a high wall, shielding us from a major road. The wall is just the right height that when a double decker bus drives past, it looks as if the upper deck of passengers are sliding along the top of the wall. It amuses me.

I can hear traffic, and birds. From inside the house, I hear Husband helping my oldest with his Economics revision, sitting at the kitchen table. As I write this, I feel a little uneasy, as it makes us sound like such great parents. Me, engaged in a spot of creative writing, Husband, wrestling through some Economics issues to support the education of our son. I have to add that this is not a typical moment. These days, school work is usually too advanced and too specialised for us to be able to help with, and in any case, I've never been a big homework-doer. They either do it themselves, or they ask the teachers for help, has been my usual approach. My involvement in homework, and Husband's, has been sporadic, to say the least. But this is the Easter holidays, and the next few weeks are 18-yo's last weeks at school, with exams that are weightier in significance than all the many others that have preceded them.

There's a sneeze from the sitting room, reminding me that hay fever season is on its way, and I hope that 15-yo won't be too badly affected this year. There's girlish chatter coming from upstairs, where 12-yo and a friend are talking and sharing (I can hardly use the verb "playing" any more, though I expect there is some of that going on too).

So that is where I am and what I'm surrounded by. What is in my head? Thoughts of a friend who had back surgery yesterday the other side of the Atlantic, and another just a few streets away who is hearing what her cancer treatment plan involves. Thoughts of my mother, dealing with health issues associated with ageing. Anticipation of heading away for the week-end on Friday, for a family birthday celebration, with an accompanying sense of how much easier that is these days, with everyone in the family doing their own packing. Ten or fifteen years ago, I'd have been writing a list, and shopping for journey-friendly snacks. It makes me smile to remember how for years the list began "Bottles, Beakers, Wellies". I miss that level of involvement in my children's travel bags, but I also don't miss it. Until the moment in the day when I've walked the dog, there is always in my head a sense that I must walk the dog, but otherwise, my mind is mellow and my time is soft.

And now I will stop writing.

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