Census Done

Today is both World Poetry Day and Census Day.

I hate ticking boxes, I'd rather write an essay telling you who I am*, and why I've not had paid employment for a long time, but there is no option for that! 

(*I am a princess, a brain and a basket case - to misquote The Breakfast Club, the other two don't apply)

I've written it all before on my blog. And I've shared much of my personal history on Facebook should you need it, for your algorithms and such like. 

So instead I've written a poem on my ponderings... at least on a particular box, the one particular definition that sometimes/often/rarely makes me the person I am today... maybe!

There is so much the census doesn't tell you and it reminds you of things in black and white that are really shades of grey.

But at least it is done for another ten years...

Census done.

2 without you now.

Each snapshot a decade apart

Single three times

(just a child)

married once

(and a mother too!)

widowed twice, at least on paper.

Yet only 53!

That doesn't sound so old.

Or maybe it does

to millennials

who see me as someone

old enough to be their mum.

Not a grandma though.

Will I ever have that title

to add to my collection?

What will the records show?

What boxes will I tick

in the next decade?

Will I remain

widowed,

one - 

census done!

Help! I think I’m turning into an introvert!

 I am most definitely a people person. I love meeting new people and I’m usually full of questions wanting to know their stories, what makes them tick. My brain likes to make connections and I am genuinely interested.

I guess that makes me an extrovert!

I thrive on social interaction.

But the longer lockdown goes on the happier I feel being cocooned in my own little world on my own with a good book – I think I’ve already read 8 this year and it is only the beginning of March; I usually only manage a couple a month.

Am I becoming an introvert?

Or is there more going on?

I still love meeting people, talking to people, in fact I’ve joined a local book swapping group on Facebook and am currently messaging someone I don’t know in person arranging collection of a book I’m giving away. Unfortunately, she lives in the next village and it’s just a little too far to walk to for a drop off.

And that’s the issue I suppose, I’m having to make excuses to go out anywhere. It’s been drummed into us that we need to stay at home, save the NHS, not make unnecessary journeys.

During the enforced confinement I’ve decided I quite like my cosy little home; I don’t really need to leave so I’m retreating from the world only venturing out into cyber space for the odd zoom meeting. Does that satisfy my need for human interaction? Most days the answer is a resounding yes!

And it’s cold and dull outside so why bother?

Of course, I do go out, Friday’s market is a highlight of my week because I get to talk to so many people. I regularly chat to all the stall holders and try to buy from as many as I can.

Our church is open and although we don’t congregate for coffee as we used to do after a service, plenty of us gather near the door on leaving, often still with masks on, chatting for a bit, longer when the sun shines.

That will make a big difference, warmer weather and less restrictions will be a marvellous combination.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, infection rates are declining and more of my friends are getting vaccinated every week. Soon we will be able to emerge like butterflies.

I’m certain I won’t have forgotten my people skills but breaking out will still be tentative.

Some people are incredibly anxious about going out into the big wide world again and although I worry that I might be turning into an introvert just writing these thoughts down have made me realise I will inevitably blossom again in the milder weather.

Youngest son recently went back to uni so my life is obviously different with only me to consider. This is a time to be selfish, do what I want and if that is stay in, snuggle under a blanket and read a book or 2 or 3 or 4 so be it!

Life is full of ups and downs and there have been several valleys for me, particularly in the last three years. This will pass, I’ve been through much worse.

But I do pray for those who are really struggling and are fearful of what happens next. Hopefully thinking through my own muddled thoughts will help me develop more empathy and compassion.

Whether you are an introvert, extrovert or somewhere in between I think we are all going to need plenty of kindness in the coming months.

A Trio of Triolet

 

Broken Down

You like to have an object you can mend

Screwdriver, hammer and a few choice words

Your refusal to talk drive me round the bend

You like to have an object you can mend

 

What I say you cannot comprehend

I feel as though my voice is barely heard

You like to have an object you can mend

Screwdriver, hammer and a few choice words

 

Mirror Wishes

We bought a mirror with a gilt-edged frame

How I wish I could climb inside

Reflections are identical – I almost look the same

We bought a mirror with a gilt-edged frame

 

To step into another world would be quite a game

Out here I’m found, in there I’d hide

We bought a mirror with a gilt-edged frame

How I wish I could climb inside

 

Fudge

A box of birthday fudge

Melts on my tongue – sugar sweet!

These extra pounds just won’t budge

A box of birthday fudge

 

Size me up – who are you to judge?

Well packaged with a bow so neat

A box of birthday fudge

Melts on my tongue – sugar sweet!

 

A Rondel of Unrequited Fluff

 

The first Wednesday of each month is always the most creative as I click the zoom link for my writing group meeting.

It is such a joy to be able to join my writerly friends in these strange times.

Last night was no exception as we learnt all about Rondel poems, starting with one by Chaucer, Rondel of Merciless Beauty, read here by the mesmerising Jude Law…

 

We were encouraged to stick to Chaucer’s rhymes to make things easier, so of course I broke those rules immediately and didn’t! 

And we were told our love poem could be about anything, a beloved pet, a landscape or even smelly feet, “it’s just a bit of fluff” said PoetWoman who was leading the evening.

Well the word fluff stuck and I couldn’t get enough of the stuff, resulting in this little ditty….

I do hope it brightens your day 😊

 

A Rondel of Unrequited Fluff

 

You stretch and yawn and catch me unawares

There’s your belly button full of fluff

I reach my finger, but not far enough

 

I am bereft, can only stop and stare

My heart’s like jelly, made from wobbly stuff

You stretch and yawn and catch me unawares

There’s your belly button full of fluff

 

Upon my word you tempt me to despair

My life from this moment on will be tough

I dry my tears upon my silken cuff

You yawn and stretch and catch me unawares

There’s your belly button full of fluff

I reach my finger, but not far enough

An Epiphany – or something

 

I want to write something profound

WORDS to share around

For you to wonder at my wisdom

Ponder at my imparting

New Years bring new hopes, new dreams

And yet it seems

We are still mired in the old

Can’t shake off the cold

It’s crept into our very bones

We shut the doors and hibernate at home

 

I want to write something hopeful

WORDS to cling to

Find a new tune to sing to

But January is dark navy blue

The colour of school uniforms, night and deep space

Going on forever

Growing blacker

Drifting further

 

I need to write something cheery

WORDS to impress

Like a new designer dress

As simply stunning as a snowdrop

Perhaps overlooked

Often under-trodden

A light bright gift of hope – an epiphany

If you know where to look.

From Under the Tree

 

Merry Christmas by Giuseppe Palmisano 

She slumped into her favourite arm chair. Christmas had once again overwhelmed and exhausted her.

There was an oppressive scent of pine in the air that seemed to smoother her, as if too much toilet cleaner had been squirted up her nose.

She was weighed down by tinsel and glitter, like grit in her eyes, both blinding and scratchy at the same time but her arms were heavy, unable to sweep the offending sparks away.

Pinned down and hemmed in by tradition desperately trying to create the perfect festivities.

Seventeen vegetables with dinner, home made brandy butter, an array of cheese with crackers and grapes.

Vintage grape scissor sourced from Ebay, that didn’t actually cut. Lingerie from her beloved that was the wrong size – wishful thinking her boobs were that big! Two fondue sets, cheap and tacky, buy one get one free no doubt. Toys that required batteries which they’d overlooked on the shopping list.

It was the usual over the top shambles, nothing like the glamourous family Christmases portrayed in the cheesy movies, but marginally better than the Den and Angie divorce.

Next year, she sighed, it would be different.

And so here we are in 2020 and there’s a good reason to stop the nonsense.

“Let’s do things another way.” She whispers as she crawls out from under conventionality and plans this year's new normal.

Rambling thoughts and small steps

 Strangely for me I am up, dressed, have eaten breakfast and am sitting at my laptop by 9am.

Getting up has been an effort just lately, well I say just lately, I guess it all started with having a university student home with me for so many months, I slipped easily into his patterns and since he has returned to uni I can still see few reasons for getting up at a reasonable hour.

Today I had to take the car for an MOT and was actually so early the garage hadn’t opened when I arrived just after 8.

As I walked back home in the glorious glow of the early morning sun, I pondered my life, as you do when you have the chance to be self-indulgent. I am listening to Sally Field’s memoir on Audible at the moment and so often what I’m reading/listening to influences my mood – currently introspection.

It was “going to school” time and many children passed me along the familiar streets, they were walking to the same school I had attended so many years ago.

I don’t suppose I realised then that I would be here once again at this stage of my life, I’m not really sure what my plans were at that age.

I’m not sure what my plans are NOW. I seem to be drifting in these strange times. The mood of the whole world is squashed by a pandemic and add the layers of grief at losing my dad recently coupled with the general malaise I feel at this time of year as we approach the anniversary of Andrew’s death it’s no wonder I have so many mornings when I struggle to escape the warmth of the winter duvet.

My mum phones me often and I reassure her that it’s alright to not get much done each day, take time to cry and just remember. So why am I so hard on myself?

Mostly I feel very cheated at all that’s been taken away from me over the past ten years, as much as anything I am grieving for the plans that haven’t come to fruition this year. Not that I ever had a clear idea what those plans were but they involved travelling and meeting new people, sparkle and adventure!

Have I written all this before or does it just sound familiar because these thoughts have been reverberating around my head for so long?

I want some structure, purpose and fun in my life, I miss my old life up North where all these elements fitted together in some kind of harmony. Now I am like a Strictly dancer in a fancy ballgown and high heels trying to move to a Latin rhythm where I don’t know the steps. I’m wearing the wrong outfit and I severely wobble in high heels – a legacy of chemotherapy that I know I’ve written about before.

I do have some tentative plans that I’m hesitant to expose on here, although there is much that I will inevitably write down one day.

Ah writing – that solace for my soul – when was the last time I wrote this blog? My words have dried up on paper even if the rambling in my head continues.

And yet each time I feel my fingers clicking out that rhythmic beat on the keyboard I know these are the dance steps I must continually practice, this is the melody running through my life as ideas flow from my brain to my fingers, words that become strangely coherent as I tease them from the depths, well at less I hope so!

So where does that leave me today, just before 10am? There are things I need to do, good deeds to tick off my list. There are always things to sort out and tidy up.

And I’ll breathe and take small steps into an unknown future, in the end that is all any of us can do in a world that has gone mad - for today that will be enough.