Last night I wrote a to-do list for today, the public holiday for a frickin horse race.
- Hair – dye it
- Toes – paint them
- Change beds
- Wardrobe – Project 333 selection
- Spare room
I (as normal, and as most women do), anticipated more than I could do. Hubs made pancakes, after breakfast and a somewhat disturbed night, I went back to bed. I only woke up when my temperature broke again and I needed more meds.
My sleep last night wasn’t disturbed by the drugs, but by the bluddy cat, when he wants something he scrapes his paw on the bathroom window. It’s then a matter of deduction to figure out what he wants. To go out? No, not allowed overnight. More food? Can do that. Company? Sleep on my head, just quit it.
Up and down, up and down.
I staggered awake mid-morning. Up and down stairs doing washing, seven loads in total. today. Only one load left and we’re all caught up. The line outside and one airer is full, the tumble-dryer cycling through bedding and towels like a trooper.
I came upstairs after setting one load off to find Hubs with a head torch on fixing the oven, the element went phut a few weeks ago – a replacement one arrived before our weekend away. He made cookies with Archie while I went grocery shopping. The shops were pretty clear for a public holiday, which as I was a donkey on the edge was just as well. I had a list and only missed on thing off it – fresh tarragon was nowhere to be found. I did come home with two lots of coriander instead of one of coriander and one parsley. Whoops.
Since then, a chicken has been roasted and picked apart. A beef stew made and portioned up. Shepherd’s Pie made, eaten for dinner and left-overs portioned up. Muffins (sausage, bacon, cheese and eggs) for breakfasts on the run made and portioned up. Salads for two lunches this week made. Eggs boiled and peeled. All in all nearly twenty portions have found there way into the fridge or freezer.
The spare room has the other airer out of it and the spare chair from downstairs taken back downstairs. The rest of what the room needs can wait for the rest of the week.
Hair? That will get done tomorrow, I couldn’t face a shower tonight. I did a facemask, but the thought of a shower did me in.
Toe nails? I took my blue polish off and one nail feel off. Another two are FUBARd after the half marathon #sadface. Right in time for summer too. Anyone know how long toenails take to grow back? Asking for a friend.
I am however tucked up in a clean bed, and Archie is in a clean bed. Mt Foldmore will still be there tomorrow, as will the ironing. I did start my Project 333, I took clothes I’m not going to wear through Spring/ Summer and moved them down to the spare room. I still haven’t figured out my final list as I need to do my ironing first.
So all in all, a successful day. The three of us went to Archie’s Tae Kwon Do class too, which I don’t get to go to normally. Had a good catch-up with the other mums there, and organised a Kinder get-together too while we were there as well.
I’m still coughing, though not as bad and am about to nod off as I’m yawning copiously, but before I go I want to share this extraordinary book with you. While I pottered, I listened to Brené Brown’s Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging for the third time since it landed in my Audible account, (I’ve also read it on my kindle too). It is extraordinary, and completely broke me open on a run last month, I slowed down, then stopped running as I was weeping so hard:
True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.
She affectionally calls the book “How to lose friends and piss off everyone” :D
All I know is that something massive is shifting within me, I’m losing alignment with something that isn’t fitting and realigning with something that is. What that looks like, I don’t know. But walking round the supermarket today, I thought to myself, I needed to get ill. I needed to stop, because what I was doing wasn’t working. My body will send me messages that I will occasionally listen too, but sometimes a pebble isn’t enough. Sometimes you need a great big rock thrown at you.