Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Living Out of a Rucksack

When I was a young adult I used to reckon that if I needed to I could take everything I needed in my life with me I could carry it all packed in a large rucksack - with guitar in one hand and a dog in the other.  Having spent three days unpacking books in my new study - and that's not even in any particular order - I am shamefully aware that times have changed and that I possess a multitude of riches.  The creation of my new studio and study is certainly a labour of love and ingenuity.  Somehow it is enabling me to reclaim an identity and to celebrate so many things I have put on a back burner for much of my adult life; a passion for the creative arts and music; humour; scattiness; silence.

 

It has been a very healing experience to bring together the last of my parents possessions into my new space.  They are finding their home in amongst my own belongings; everything from press cuttings and reviews to holiday snaps and certificates of achievement.  I was looking at my father's old business books earlier which now reside in amongst my own writing and journalling books and they looked utterly at home.  We inherit more than we realise.

 

I struggled quite a bit with the level of coverage given to Princess Diana when she died.  The public emotional temperature seemed feverish and delusional.  Now Jade Goody has died; a woman who has undoubtedly had a tough life and faced her death at an impossibly early age with fortitude, we are courting similar rituals once again.  The flowers outside Goody's home; sychophantic TV presenters and commentators discussing her as a wonderful, courageous woman when they were the first to destroy her when her behaviour in The Big Brother  house was gauche and inappropriate.  What finally made me flip my lid was hearing the Bishop who blessed Jade's marriage speaking on Radio 4 on Sunday morning decribing her as a modern day saint.  Hell's teeth - the Church really is becoming Hello magazine for the religiously inclined.

 

Mohican

My family seems to have expanded overnight following an emergency trip down to Somerset just over a week ago.  Sadly my sister-in-law died and in the process of preparing for her funeral - we found we had time and space in the area to explore.  In all the years I have known my partner we have never been in Somerset, my partner's home area - unencumbered.  Small children in tow; elederly parent to hurry North for - all played their part in never having time to catch up properly.  This trip I at last met some of the cousins I had heard so much about over the years (a joy) and began to get my barings in the countryside that my partner once called home. 

 

I have a tiny blood family by comparision - so it is taking me time to adjust. I keep pinching myself and thinking how very fortunate I am.  We seem to have things in common - a love of horses; gardens; trains - all good.

Back in the Highlands - it is life-giving to smell the freshness of the air and feel the sea in my face.  I have been busy - still - with the momentous task of moving my study into The Sanctuary - but I am beginning to think about colour schemes for the new guest room.  Spring is in the air.

 

It's been brilliant to have our son home for ten days - he now has a gorgeous mohican haircut courtesy of his mum and a razor - we have our uses!!!

 

The dogs are mortified to see removal boxes out - but relieved in some measure to see them only going as far as across the courtyard!!!!

 

 

Eye Time

Went to the eye clinic this morning for a check-up.  Have been referred to a low visual aid clinic.  Hopefully this will provide me with an array of binoculars, glasses etc... which give me greater acuity and independence.

 

 

 

Back in the Loop

I am sorry it has been a month of Sundays since I last blogged.

 

It has mostly been good news in that I have been doing rather than wondering about it.

 

I'm at a deliciously intriguing crossroads.  Contemplating the future and discerning where my limited energies can best be focused.  The lst few weeks have brought up opportunities to explore future possibilities.  The death of my sister-in-law took me back to priesthood and service.  I became an artist as I prepared a rather kookie but unique memorial bench in her memory for her residential home.  On again - the chance to write - a poem in her memory.  It all fitted.

 

Back up here in The Highlands - the sound of the geese of the bay was like a homecoming parade.  Thoughts are straying to returning to my partner's home area of Somerset; he has so many friends in the area and there are possibilities- but there is no doubt - our heart is here.

 

Dogs are out of kennels and looks like fluff balls - all shampooed and beautiful.  Home, is it where the heart is?