Life is all about time, isn’t it?
Time marches on. Have I got time? Will it be done in time?
I need to find time-
a scrap of time
unnoticed
by the demands of everyday life
that chews up every morsel of time it can find… Susan Williams
I think about the perfection of Lindsay’s words from November last year:
‘Take thyme.
Make thyme.
Enough thyme.
Sweet thyme.
Borrow thyme…’
… and I think that just the piquant fragrance of thyme alone is enough to slow real time down. I use thyme frequently in my kitchen, and I take a precious moment, a dozen even, to inhale, to absorb that piquancy and think about what would be best flavoured with such a delicate thing.
I found a recipe for Apple and Thyme jelly – the very look of it is so exquisite that I expect I’ll have to try and make a jar or two with our own apples and thyme (time).
I look at the little plant and think I’d like to be delicate with fine, graceful limbs. I’d love to do ballet class twice a week to cultivate an elegant style. Is there time? Can I make time?
I want to take time to really think this surgery through. I need to weigh up the pros and cons, to make the right choice. Because in the end, my body, my choice (and I hear the voice of a doctor I respect greatly saying ‘when in doubt stay out’). But… there’s always a but, isn’t there?
Our days are getting shorter and colder and so time becomes even more precious between dawn and dusk. I fill the hours with ‘mental floss’ so aptly described last week by Susan Baker in her comment on ‘Walk Like An…’ Thus I garden, spend time on the farm, walk with husband and the Terrier, I swim, practice my ballet.
I write. For some strange reason I began a contemporary novel this week. It was a compunction and I’m loving it. I see poor brother Bruno in the corner, head lifted, eyeing me quizzically and asking ‘But why leave me in mid-sentence?’ I can only offer him my sincerest apologies and say I will return when the time is right.
I stretch my feet in demi-point. At least I could practice that from my hospital bed if it comes to that. But elegant? I doubt it. Can I waft with Giselle-like grace between bed and bathroom? In a striped hospital gown? I’m ever reminded of Jack Nicholson in Something’s Gotta Give – bare butt and all!
It lacks that gossamer quality.
I know I’m becoming a bit (a lot) fixated on what’s to come, but I’m an anxious bod, and time, my friends, is precious. We should never waste it, you know, those moments that we will never get back. Use them wisely, gently, exist in that exact moment as you lean over the herb garden to pluck a stem of thyme (time).
Doing:
Inordinate pleasure in planting up all the tubs throughout the gardens with fresh soil, tulip bulbs and winter annuals, and then consigning them to Mother Nature to work her magick through winter’s passing months.
Ticking off the list. Ah, but which list? I’ve achieved fifteen of the desires on My List and mostly lived life softly in the doing. But then there are the more practical lists…
Reading:
On Kindle. Antoine Laurain. Vintage 1954. This writer is so smooth and polished… 11/10 for everything he writes.
In print: Monty Don’s The Garden Book – it’s likely to be my print book of choice for the next few months. Although, Richard E Grant has praised another new release, Outside In by Sean Anthony Pritchard, which may be stacked alongside. Anything to do with gardens and I salivate.
Nothing via audio as I store up Audible credits for the (possible) inevitable, but quite a lot of reading on Substack:
David Michie
HHC always instructs me in the most subtle ways, and I’m not even a cat person! But when this cat manages to convey unashamedly that he is the most beautiful cat in the world, and that he shares a room with the Dalai Lama, one really must take note.
Tom Ryan
on the other hand, shares his life with Samwise and Emily who are the world’s most beautiful dogs, and in every post, convey the message that selflessness and caring are all that’s needed to open the heartways.
Sue Sutherland Wood
reveals the perils (and exhaustion) of a nocturnal monkey mind.
And this:
What fascinated me was the reported responses of mainstream publishing at the DoJ. So many good writers exist, but so little attention is paid because they aren’t ‘names’ or ‘bottom line’ makers. That’s the value of writing apparently – ‘show me the money!’ So many mainstream published writers actually sell far less books than one would think.
In any case, this quote made me feel content about being an indie writer: "Amazon.com has 50 million books available..." There’s little old me, indie-published since 2008, still managing to sell little bits and pieces of my backlist via Amazon and with all that competition. No advances, no commitments to agents and publishers, little to no marketing. Quite chuffed against the odds. It’ll do…
Watching:
Japan’s Cheap Homes on Dateline about akiya houses. Poignant…
Litvinenko with David Tennant. Powerful!
Alone Australia – cruel loneliness is chewing through the participants.
Norwegian Fling with Martin Compston. A stunning and unusual view of Norway; so very reminiscent of parts of New Zealand-Aotearoa.
Ballet:
We suspect with each new step or bracket of steps, that we might be learning a little of the potential choreography for the end of year concert. For me, participation may be in the lap of the gods as I note dispiritedly that if I go ahead with this surgery, exhaustion will be powerful and likely to last for 3 months or even longer. Really, given that I would miss 6 physical weeks in the studio, I worry that I’d be hopelessly under-prepared. Still, in order to boost my flagging morale, I saw this online.
Maybe it’ll create a royal mindset for an eventual pas de basque to some Prokofiev. Or perhaps I’ll sit up in a hospital bed so graced. Or maybe, if I cancel the surgery I can just waft around the house regally. Who knows?
Thus, as time flits by I leave you with the sweetest little animation of Ballerina on a Boat (created in Russia in 1969). I love Vanzo’s music and this short edit is as delicate as the aforementioned sprig of thyme.
(If you have the time, the longer original version is choreographed to a much heavier piece of music, but still enjoyable…
… and which for some obscure reason, reminds of Captain Pugwash.)
Oh gosh. Negotiable? I was due to have it last year and cancelled because a family member was unwell, not believing that I'd get sick again, but Easter proved the lie to that and it was the most painful bout yet.
When the specialist visited me in my hospital room, he looked at me and wryly said: 'You know what this means, don't you?' So the writing is most definitely on the wall.
I see him this Tuesday to plot it all out. My vacillation is pure cowardice. I know this, you now know this. Authentic me...
I love the way that thyme recipe reads and think it would be lovely to make. We don't drink alcohol in this family but what a base it would be for the most beautiful drinks anyway. Thank you for the link.
Re the videos, so sorry about the ads - when I play it here, I get none. This happens on Facebook tas well - no ads. But Instagram is a whole other ballgame. Might speak to the man who keeps digital me afloat - he might have some ideas.
You are so lovely to say I'm an example - just try to ignore the evident cowardice and anxiety and that might be true! XXXX
As I read this wonderful post, specifically, "But elegant? I doubt it. Can I waft with Giselle-like grace between bed and bathroom? In a striped hospital gown?"
I think of what my parents told us 5 kids when going out in the world in the 1960s, when looks and possessions influenced "first impressions": "Stand up straight, chin up but not your nose, be confident: you're clean, your clothes are paid for, you have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of".
Your spirit and heart are elegant. That shines through. May you have calm courage and peace in the days and weeks ahead, Prue. Beautiful post.