annanotbob's Diaryland Diary
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and I will walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain
I think we can all agree that the whinge-factor has been pretty constant round these parts recently. (I say 'recently' as if I can remember a time when it wasn't, but that's by the by.) Today things seemed to shift a bit.
After having a big big boo hoo hoo in the morning about my lovely babies (who I think you'll find, objectively speaking, are just about the best kids the world has to offer), (which doesn't mean I don't hate them all), once I'd stopped snivelling for long enough to see the screen, I made myself write that list in the previous post about the gains since finally living alone, and although they are all trivial things when taken alone, together they add up to an endless drip drip drip of pissed offness about having spent my childhood in thrall to old skool 1950s parents, my early thirties trying not to provoke a punch in the face from my husband, and then proceeding to hand over control to my fucking daughter. My doing, not hers. Terrible, awful way to live. Victim mentality. I am SO GLAD not to be doing that any more. OK, I am a bit broken hearted not to be spending time with Sara, but the good times we have together will always be available and this is a new beginning for us both.
So I went and 'did art' with Jane:
who is my darling friend for so many reasons, not least because we go through much that is similar, but with a twist (both Geminis). We've both written all our lives and have literary ambitions and some talent, but are easily distracted by other forms of artistic expression. We've both done The Artist's Way course and then for the last year or more we've both been living in close proximity to seriously talented artists, my Sara and Jane's BF, who both get on and do brilliant stuff all the time and completely intimidate the fledgling artistic side of me and Jane. We both have massive collections of stuff that will come in handy when we finally get round to making art and hey, today was that day!! Woo hoo!!
We got everything out in her tiny attic room, then decided we'd like a theme, so Jane picked up her big thesaurus and asked me to choose a number. 327. OK, page 327 - read them all or more random? For me, random, third word down: glad. Jane wanted to choose so read on and found 'glance', but I was thrilled to have randomly arrived at glad, aka cheerful, cheery, delighted, festive, happy, joyful, joyous, merry, pleasing:
Jesus, it's half-past one and I haven't even started on my visit to Jan this evening.
Precis: Impulse - wanted to eat in pub, who can I call? Jan, already cooking, come on round.
Damp drizzly dusk, up and down city hills, Ugg boots, hoodie, nice to be walking:
Another stencil on pavement. Last one said 'Give me my self', which made me want to add 'CLAIM your self, go on, take it, no one else is going to hand it over.'
I think the middle word is today, so 'That was today, it was'. Hmmm.
Jan, mental, in new flat, furnishing it from wherever, finding great stuff like this for £50:
with all the lights and beautifully shaped everywhere, fantastic.
Walked home in more drizzle, past the Pepperpot, usually seen in daylight when Millie-walking:
Felt great to be out on the street.
Been chucking it down with rain since I got back, fucking cat loves it - in and out like ... well, provide your own smutty metaphor. She comes in soaking wet, dries off, has a five minute zizz, stretches and goes back outside. Repeat as long as the rain lasts. When I was teaching and had Serious Marking to do, like coursework, I'd spread it out on the kitchen table, the only available surface, and if it was raining that bloody cat was endlessly arriving at speed on the table top and skittering across, leaving a trail of muddy paw prints across people's Best Work. She's a bad cat:
12:23 a.m. - 07/10/2009
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