Breathing Space

Well my son is winging his way across the pond, and much as I love him dearly I'm looking forward to a month of peace and quiet. I'm sick of hearing myself nagging and cajoling.

I know the teenage brain is a fried mess of mixed up connection, but that doesn't make it any easier to live with. And I'm afraid my mother's genes are also rising to the fore, and I've been guilty of mouthing some of her legendary phrases like "do something to justify your existence!"

It's the aural equivalent of catching yourself in the mirror and for a moment knowing that it's her face staring back at you. Sometimes I'm almost sad that she is dead, as I might be just about ready to admit that at times she had a point.

I also had a friend round to view the shots I did of her girls for a Father's Day present for her husband. (It's this Sunday folks!) She was really taken with them, to the extent her eyes filled up and she said "we have two beautiful children, but we could never have caught them the way that you have." I must admit I really enjoyed the process - and I'm more and more convinced that being a middle-aged woman behind the lens is a positive bonus, as you seem to be completely invisible and non-threatening.

Also had lovely e-mails from folk who bought Heart Notes last week, most saying how much they loved the reading and how much they liked my voice. I never really expect people to like my stuff - there's my mother again - but I'm starting to have to believe the evidence that is accruing before my eyes.

The best thing about last Thursday was that Maggie, my counsellor post cancer, came to reading. I've not seen her for well over two years, but I could see she was overjoyed to see the progress that I have made.

I've also heard that I'm going to Spain later in the year, as part of the party from the charity I work with to visit our twin project on the border of Spain/Portugal.
And the "big garden" has got its second grant, this one is to establish a community orchard in the wild flower meadow. I gave a wee bit of support on this, but most of the credit has to go to our chairman, who put in a power of work on it. So we now have money to take out inappropriate trees, most are "volunteers" and to replace them with old, local varieties of apple, pear and plum. The meadow will also be scarified mechanically to take out the deep thatch of grass and allow light to the many wild flowers and bulbs, which will be added to by means of plug planting etc.

So I guess I'm feeling a little better. I think London and the work on the house just took too much out of me, and it takes me longer and longer to bounce back.