Welcome to Scotland, where the weather thespian tramples the stage like a diva locked out of her favourite club. The rain is intermittent but when it comes it spews down from the side, balled up by huge gusts of wind and thrown into our faces. Take that. And that.
Thus spoke the ultimate Big Woman: If there is but a single loose seam in your coat or your boots, I will find it. I will infiltrate the dark, once-warm confines of your winter wear, the chilled pressure of my spine cuddled up against the part of your mind that regularly blocks out any reminders of your certain eventual demise. Feel how I make it shiver? Feel how I force your eyes into a squint, pushing you deeper into the place you would do almost anything to avoid? That is, of course, until the inevitable Last Moment, because then there is no choice. Trust me. Open up. Fight less. I promise the pain will ease off, too.
Quote of the day:
“I put the last quarter under the radiator.” by Tattoo-tastic Jackie. You wouldn’t think we were knee deep in music royalties data, would you?
Just 30 minutes ago I pushed the magic button that said “make payment.” Thanks to some extra cash this holiday season, I have been able to pay off the last £500 on my visa card. So I will start the New Year with no debt. What…a…relief.
A whole new year approaches. During JP’s most recent visit we got into a conversation about things we don’t regret not being. For example, neither of us are fussed that we never became musicians. The only instrument I yearn to play is the harp, but that is only as another path through pleasure to wisdom. It feels good, and that is how I learn things.
Back when I lived in the cabin at Chimney Lake I would watch the clan of snow boarders and mountain climbers from next door head out for yet another adrenaline-filled adventure. I felt not one pang of jealousy. Since I have entered my 30s I have begun to settle quite happily into my character of ambling, pleasure-loving, well-fleshed kitchen witch (the scent of sweet chilli jam met me again today when I walked through the door). While I am curious about my body’s capabilities, I have no desire to discover this through diving out of planes or hanging from my finger tips from a rock ledge. No, I would rather walk a very long distance through many landscapes, with plenty of stops for snacks and note-taking. Slow and long - that’s my style. I’m okay with that.
Recently I have noticed that I have started fretting less about what I’m going to do with my life. Not that I don’t worry about my future, but I guess I am just starting to trust myself more. I am more confident of my abilities. Slowly I am pouring more of myself into the things that make me truly happy, where I feel the seeds of my gifts can grow the best shoots. The result is like greasing the slide that leads to a pool of contentment.
So with that (**big stretch**) I’m off. Last minute shopping tomorrow. Last Saturday before Christmas. That means battering past masses of people and strollers and moving from the cold and wet into the dry but crowded and overheated. Deep breath. I can do this…
PS: Listening to: Back Burner by Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan (oh, that voice, those two perfect growls grinding like the combination to a lock deep in my low belly)
The hill at Snurrom
20 hours ago