Where HAVE I been?
Hmm... how to gather together and encapsulate the past 9 or 10 days into one coherent post. I disappeared without hinting that I may be away from the computer. Stuff just happened, that's all. My sister found herself with a few free days, and came to visit, which was lovely. We ate out, and went to the theatre, (the wonderful Dancing At Lughnasa - the link is to a different production, but you get the idea!).
Then, over the weekend, from Friday evening through to late Sunday afternoon, I was taking part in a marvellous, invigorating, deep, fun, transformative, sometimes almost-scary workshop on Working with Myth and Legend for counsellors and listeners. It involved movement, dance, drama, art, introspection. Almost impossible to describe the process, but it was an immersion in legend, a place between real-life and the ineffable. The training was given by a facilitator trained by Paul Rebillot. The myth we focused on was The Children of Lir, which appears in many versions on the web. Here are two: Here and Here... This one is the one I read, and I love the language of it, though it isn't easy to read, perhaps.
No sooner had I come home, than I found myself, instead of exhausted and worn out from the intensity of the process, but energised instead - and there I was, on my patio, racing to stay with the last of the daylight, emptying dead summer-plants from my pots, and filling the pots with cyclamen, pansies and asters. I tidied and readied for winter. What's happening? Plants bought weeks ago, and suddenly, I had the energy. I left a pot of white cyclamen outside my kitchen window, with beautiful uplifted petals looking like the wings of swans.
And then, just as I came indoors to rest and relax, word came that the painter I'd booked weeks ago to come repaint my entire house, inside and out, - was going to arrive at 8.30 next morning! Panic stations! Bring the dog (poor, poor Trixie... I am sorry. I really am!) to the kennels, to keep her out from underfoot, and out of danger of paint, open doors, men's feet, furniture being moved... Start taking pictures off the walls, clearing clutter (oh, oh, oh.... that clutter!), getting ready for him.
So, since Monday, I've been getting on with the ordinary business of life - some work, some play, some seeing friends, some phone-calls, some emails, some cooking, some brief catching-up on reading blogs, but no time for posting, no time for leisurely reading.
I've caught up today, because I'm confined to my study. The living-room, hallway and kitchen are full of painters' paraphernalia, and this is a safe space, by virtue of the decision to leave it til last. - It has the most furniture to be moved. So, here I am, with books, coffee and PC. It's a hard life! - And someone else doing the hard work of actually painting. I have already brought 3 boxes of books to charity shops, and have filled another 3 boxes. There's furniture, curtains, and lots and lots of my son's old stuff to go too, so the next few weeks will be busy weeks of clearing, and that feels just great, because I will enter my 50th year (I'll turn 49, in other words) in December, and will have a clear space, a new environment around me, and I'm SO looking forward to that. Wish me the energy to complete the transformation! - But I think I'm doing well energy-wise, because it's going in the right direction, and I'm pausing to rest, and not going hell-for-leather at anything... and because I've had a very, very, very long run-in time to this project.
THAT's where I've been! Sorry to have missed Sunday Scribblings and Poetry Thursday, sorry to have not said... but it all took over fairly suddenly..
Finally, I'd like to have added a bit of visual interest in the way of photos, but Blogger wouldn't let me. I don't know why. Sorry for the boring post!
Oh... and just in case I find myself without enough going on to keep me busy....