Fetch Me A Tiara!! (aka - a princess moment)

Today I could write any one of a million posts - ok, maybe not a million, but hundreds, well, perhaps 47 ... hmmm, 6 ...

I don't know.  It's such a long time since I've blogged, I mean properly blogged.  There's been the odd post, a couple of photos, but nothing much really for what seems like the longest time and I don't know why.  Stuff happens, THINGS happen.  I have ideas, I have words, snippets, pictures in my head.  The beginings of posts but they just drift away from me.

I haven't lost my love of writing.  I haven't lost my love of reading your posts.  Sometimes I read them and click to comment and just sit there waiting for the words to come. The thoughts that filled my head when I was reading it just turn to vapour and I can't quite grasp them.

So what's going on?

The truth is I don't know. I've lost touch a little.  I feel a bit like the kid at school outside the circle, looking in, watching everyone else having fun.  Wanting to be a part of it but not knowing how.

The difference is that it's of my own making.  I've stepped outside of the circle.  When I write a post a few friendly hands reach out to pull me back in, I smile and look down at my feet but I don't take that step forward.

I see old friends making new friends and new people joining groups that I used to be a part of and I know that it's only me stopping myself being a part of that and I can't quite work out why I am.

It's such a beautiful day today.  The sun's shining, there isn't a cloud in the sky.  I sat in the garden earlier drinking coffee surrounded by animals.  Tillys kittens have all gone to new homes and I have temporarily taken on two adorable black kittens from the farm in order to get them used to being handled before re homing them.  I took them into the garden for the first time since they arrived last weekend and they made a beeline for my tub decimated by Tillys kittens, curling up amongst the lobelia, soaking up the warmth of the sun.  Gus sat by my feet and Tilly curled up on the decking next to me.  Even Bear rubbed against my legs for a moment before disappearing over the fence into next doors garden.

I've been BUSY.  I've been doing STUFF.  THINGS have happened.  Silly, stupid, fun stuff.  I've partied hard, I've been to the beach, I've gardened, cooked, decorated, flirted, laughed.  I've carbooted, been on holiday, watched the sun rise and set over the sea.  I've swum, I've climbed cliffs, I've stood on a tiny bridge and watched the waves crash on the rocks below me while the spray misted my face leaving my skin dusted with salt.

I've lain awake in my bed thinking about all of these things and wondering how it's possible they don't seem to add up to contentment ...

I've never suffered from the princess syndrome.  Being one of four teaches you pretty early on in life that you aren't the centre of the universe and that's ok.  I'm not a demanding sort of person, simple things make me happy.  Being with the people I love.  Sharing my life with people who care about me.  Surrounding myself with my friends.  Taking time out by myself.  So WTF is wrong with me?  What is it that's blocking that feeling of contentment?

Truth be told, some pretty horrible stuff has happened over the last few years and the ramifications echo on in the background and possibly always will.  I sometimes wonder if I could or should blog about them, would that help?  Maybe ....  It wouldn't change anything, it can't turn back time, it probably wouldn't make any difference at all.

I want my enthusiasm back.  I want to wake up with that feeling that I can't wait to put down in words (fact and fiction) the things that I see, the things that happen, the stupid stuff I say and do (it's still all going on) and I think ..  WHAT, what it it that's stopping me?

And that's the thing I don't seem to have the answer to.

I could write a great post about my washing machine blowing up on Monday and no, that's not an exaggeration, the bloody thing literally blew up. Think loud banging noises and lots of smoke!  My initial reaction was, 'damn, wish I'd got a photo of that' as I opened the door and was enveloped in a cloud of acrid black smoke which left the house stinking of burning rubber for two days.  The sequel to 'My Shitty House Strikes Again' maybe and seriously, if you'd seen Miss Mac and I standing there wondering if the bloody thing was about to actually explode taking us with it you probably would have laughed.  And then it hit me, I have no fucking washing machine now.

Great!

I can live without my dishwasher, actually, I quite like washing up.  I can live without the tumble dryer, Id rather watch it blowing on the line or have it filling the house with the smell of fresh linen as it drys on the clothes horse (over the banisters, radiators, hanging on the backs of doors and every other available space you could possibly hang wet clothes to dry).  But how the hell am I going to cope without a washing machine?

When big D was a baby I lived in the middle of nowhere.  A tiny cottage high up in the Quantock hills.  It was stunning. We had a huge garden with fruit trees and a view down the valley to the sea and I had no washing machine.  I used to wash his little baby clothes by hand and peg them out on the line.  Every couple of weeks we would go to the laundrette and wash the bedding, towels ect.  It was tough at times but it was ok, I was happy, enthusiastic and life was good.

Big D is now 28, planning his wedding next year to the lovely L and here I am back to square one without a bloody washing machine and what was ok then is NOT ok now so Im pissed off!

Of course I know I'll get it sorted, I'll work something out (and if you're thinking why don't I just go out and buy a new one, well, finances dictate otherwise just at the moment I'm afraid).  It's not the biggest deal in the world, I know that, like I said, the sun's shining, I've hand washed all the small stuff and it's drying as I type.  It wasn't hard and it'll be dry by lunchtime. There's a laundrette just down the road, or, failing that, I have numerous friends who would happily let me run a few things through their washing machine until I get this sorted.

So, it's time to get over myself, stop feeling sorry for myself because, lets face it, in the grand scheme of things, it's not really so bad is it?

Funnily enough, this is yet again NOT the post I sat down to write, I'll actually need to re read it to know what I've actually said.  I was going to either give you the 'funny' version of the washing machine or another instalment of my childhood (the village fete edition, it's hilarious ;) .  Failing that I've been dying to tell you all about my trip to Cornwall, it was FANTASTIC and I got some great photos, and I will, just felt the need for a little moan and a bitch and now I've got that out of my system I'm off out into the sunshine to sand down my shed ready for painting while the weather is still good.

If you've made it this far down the page thank you, I feel MUCH better now :-).