Eclectica...
for Knots in the String...
Christmas-New Year is such a strange period.
Speaking for myself, I forget which day it is and lapse into a kind of torpor where things are not so much accomplished but are done by some deeply entrenched rote.
We eat, we sleep, we walk with the terrier. And then…
Nothing much really.
But in the spirit of reflection and perhaps creating some sort of template for this year, I read an interesting set of questions from
I answered them as best I could and without too much thought as I felt spontaneity was the key.
What was the best adventure you had this year?
Riding with Tas e-Bike Adventures along the Maria Island coast.
Performing in public at a ballet concert, to the music from Amelie.
What was the best book you read, TV show you watched, or podcast you listened to?
Richard E Grant’s A Pocketful of Happiness is my book of the year.
Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is my TV movie. Delightful. Happily retro (for me anyway).
Rock, Paper, Swords has been my fave podcast this year.
What “current event” really broke your heart this year?
The Ukraine.
The death of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II
The Sussexes’s continued attacks upon our Royal Family and our Commonwealth of Nations.
What are you missing most about the smaller life you led in the throws of the pandemic? How might you bring that smallness back in some nourishing way?
I miss empty spaces badly.
I’ll resume self-containment and look for emptier spaces.
What did you shed, let go of, or give up this year? How did you get lighter?
I gave up someone whose manner was, I felt, dubious. Thus, I’ve given up on those who send gushes and flowers but are always MIA when they’re needed. I feel no grief for what I let go.
I’m lighter by being content with my lot. And I’m reassured that the way of equality with which my parents taught me to view life, plus the difference between right and wrong is still in my very soul.
What are you grieving? How could you carry that grief more collectively?
My lost youth. My Mum and Dad and those of my friends who have passed away.
Sadly, loss is part of life, and as the late Queen Elizabeth II said, ‘loss is the price of love…’ but it’s always hard.
As to youth? Meh! You can’t hold back the clock!
But carrying the grief collectively? Still puzzling that question. It’s an odd one…
How did your body love moving this year? How could you integrate that more into the year ahead?
It hurt (tendinopathy and arthritis) but because I love moving – ballet, walking, gardening, a clean and tidy house and playing with my grandson – I put up with the inevitable discomfort and did what I needed to stay mobile. The joy outweighs the discomfort. Besides, ballet has become so addictive…
Who made you feel most heard this year? Who did you learn to have better boundaries with?
My husband always hears me and I’m profoundly grateful for his listening and understanding.
I learned to create better boundaries for myself – that it’s okay to say no, goodbye, and to move on.
9. What was a thing you had a hard time admitting to yourself this year?
That at 71, I am on the inevitable downhill slide of my life.
Also that I often see things in black and white and need my husband to introduce the shades of grey in anything. It’s why he’s a diplomat and I’ve only got my ‘L’ plates.
10. What completely ordinary thing are you most grateful for right now in your life?
Things, not thing. Life firstly. Then a long and happy marriage, a very quiet existence, home, family, wonderful gardens and a dog. Sight, sound, movement – health. The sea, bushland, wild fish and animals, bees, butterflies and birds.
So that’s it. An eclectic set of questions and answers. When I look back, I realise I learned quite a lot this year – that in its own mundane way, life taught me about myself and allowed me to accrue a little bit of strength on which I hope to build.
In a moment of curiosity before Christmas, I wondered why I’ve been so interested in published memoirs and Substack thoughts this last year. I decided it was because I want to hear others’ varied views on life, the universe, and everything in between. I’ve read Miriam Margolyes, Graham Norton, Monty Don, Hugh Bonneville, Katharine Hepburn, Sheila Hancock and most importantly Richard E Grant. Yes, all actors but more particularly, wise, humorous, generous, honest – I relate to them more than politicians, hard core intellectuals and activists. I need that dollop of humour, of not taking themselves so seriously that they become narcissistic. Of not proselytising from some ivory tower.
And in the spirit of memoir, I’ve decided to write my own very private journal for a year. It may be a step toward me understanding private me better (which is why it will never be published). A bit of fun, a bit of self-discipline like the newsletter. We shall see how it goes.
Reading:
On Kindle – still with The House at Mermaid Cove – such good night time reading.
On Audio – Bernard Cornwell. I love his writing! He has such a way with characterisation, setting, action and pace that create a plot that hooks hard and reels you in to the end. This is Gallows Thief and the protagonist is Rider Sandman. Former calvary captain at Waterloo and now investigator for the British Home Secretary of the time. Such a good story as he tries to establish the innocence of a young homosexual painter in a murder case. The gallows awaits in just five days. Time is of the essence.
The narrator is one of my favourites – the most excellent voice of Jonathan Keeble. He has a way of delivering immensely strong characters by timing and tone. I could listen to him read the phone book!
Doing:
Reading. See above. But also catching up with a dozen emails of Substack treats.
Writing. my latest fantasy. How I love words…
Stitching. A few hearts...
Cooking.
Chocolate Brunsli from Ottolenghi which correctly should be stars, but I made circles because it was after Christmas. I also made the Cake that Tastes Like Sunshine from Lindsay Cameron Wilson
for my husband’s birthday.
Delicious with clotted cream and fresh berries from our garden.
I’m halfway through cooking a beetroot (also from the garden) tarte tatin from River Cottage. It has the most superb herb (from the garden) vinaigrette.
Swimming. At last. ‘Nuff said.
Watching:
The second part of Our Dementia Choir with Vicky Mclure. Brilliant! I cried for the courage, I cried with anger at the lack of government support and I cried with grief for the memories that were dissolving for folk with the disease. Perversely though, it does give one hope that with loving, understanding and financially committed government support, some headway may be made for those who suffer.
Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris. A beautiful film, happily retro. Five stars.
Cambridge Spies. A polished series made in 2003 about Burgess, Mclean, Philby and Blunt. An indictment of the old school tie, of the Old Boys’ system - a system that failed Britain massively and at the highest level. Stunning cast!
Thus ends my melange of eclectica. It’s my hope that life becomes a little more interesting as time moves on. Enough to keep you engaged and wanting to open your email.
As thunder rumbles overhead and my terrier trembles and barks and as the sky threatens like something from an apocalyptic movie, I will try to improve.
I promise.
Happy and safe 2023!
PS: Not long after these pics of the clouds were taken as I finished swimming, we had thunder and lightning for four hours, an inch of rain in an hour and hailstones the size of golfballs in some places. Weather on steroids!
Thoroughly absorbing. A lot I can identify with. Age being one of them. In a couple of weeks I will be 76 which I can hardly believe. I’ve still got so much to do… Hubs is 79 and has stoically fought cancer twice in the past 18 months, and won! Age we are told is just a number, and could only have been said by someone very young or delusional. It comes with aches and pains and so much more baggage. The trick is to be grateful for what has passed and look forward to what is yet to be. I have loved reading your blogs, Prue. You have a knack of putting things into perspective, telling it how it is and being open hearted and open minded. If only more were of your caliber. Here’s to a happy and peaceful 2023, dear friend. xx
Isn't it wonderful how we writers provide each other with raw material for our own stories? The thoughts and feelings that arise from reading other Substacks often gives me ideas for a future post.
I'm going to try journaling (again). Good luck to us both!