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Thursday, 11 February 2010

Thursday Pinboard

Yes, that would be it... such high hopes.
I have been scrubbing. And lying down. And feeling tired. And the other day I was squinting to read something and my Mum passed me her glasses and lo and behold I could see and now I do believe it is time to shoot myself because it isn't enough that I have sprouted a grey eyebrow, but heaven help us all, the relentless march of time wants to render me old lady blind as well.

Such high hopes. Isn't it funny how you think life is going to go one way and ten years later it's a completely different kettle of fish? I am mourning my lost youth. So I have been scrubbing. And filling bowl after bowl full of hot sudsy water because I can't get enough of the scent of Cath Kidston washing up liquid. And channeling Dita Von Teese because she is my latest Domestic Idol, and singing along with Zooey Deschanel at the top of my voice (I'm just sitting on the shelf...)  and eating my own utterly scrumptious recipe for Shepherds Pie, with cabbage and mustard and a sprinkle of this and that, because nothing, oh but nothing, nothing and nothing, tastes better when it is so cold the French hand soap freezes on the kitchen window-sill. Shepherds Pie served with home-made tomato chutney in terracotta bowls and room temperature eldeflower water with a slice of lemon, curled up on the sofa with a tray on my knee and a little boy tucked under my arm.

High hopes! It struck me recently that I should probably come with a warning. If I say I am going to do something this week, please let it be universally acknowledged that I actually mean next month.
High hopes and the best of intentions are worthy qualities, but heavens above life is quite the rudest of interrupting, interfering curmudgeonly companions on the road to doing what you intended to do isn't it?
One forgets to factor in hormones and exhaustion, unexpected but utterly irresistable trips to the best coffee shop in the world, an evening spent wallowing in a spick and span bath instead of blinking in front of the computer doing what you said you were going to do to all and sundry and probably her Great Aunt Maud, and days when the simple act of polishing, or cleaning, or bringing order to a room isn't so much about avoiding life, but is in fact life itself.

I always feel like this during scrub week. Muddled in the head. At once exhausted and invigorated. Prone to stabbing about for deeper meaning hiding in the mundane. Prone to accepting every invitation that comes my way in an effort to escape domesticity, and more than that to fill my head with voices other than my own.

High hopes. I am behind. I have gotten waylaid by letters that fall out of books and worrying about a long list of tiny worries that probably won't come to pass. The scrub may have to linger over half term week and reach a glittery climax the week after. It isn't the end of the world.

High hopes you see are such flexible little friends. Relentlessly optimistic little shape shifters all too willing to adapt to only what we are capable of right now. High hopes are believers in tomorrow and if I know nothing, I know this: when it comes to scrubbing there is always tomorrow.


melissa said...

We've all been sick (and finally recovered) so I totally get this post.

When it's'll get done. :)

Sasha said...

What's that phrase about life being what happens when we've made other plans....???!!! Or something like that!

I always find something else to do in place of a perfectly good plan. It's a form of rebellion perhaps? I don't mind it, I know myself by now and have stopped worrying about it! I know I will always get something done when my heart is in it, and not before, so I give myself a break. Besides, if not for procrastination, think of all the other piffle that would never get done!

Jenifir said...

Oh Alison, I can completely relate to this post on many levels. I now carry a credit card size magnifier in my purse for when I am wearing my contact lenses(vanity over practicality) but when I wear my glasses if I just slip them off I am usually alright. It is crucial that I can read the small print as I am seriously allergic to eggs! (Can you imagine no longer being able to eat such a comfort food?)
I have my Mother's voice in my head reminding me "that the road to hell is paved with good intentions"(why can't the voices in my head get old and difficult to hear?). Remember that you do get a lot done and inspire/encourage all of us to do likewise and you put to words the musings that home-keeping stimulates. So keep going as your are!

Katherine said...

I'm flexible, so it doesn't bother me in the least! ;)

Carlie said...

Last night I peeled off my rubber gloves and collapsed in a heap of tears into my bed...and told my husband all about how I was a lousy no good person really. lol The Scrub has a way of turning me inside out. I can't quit though, I know that if I do I'll never resume...I'll just fill my calendar with social engagements and fill the kitchen with absurd amounts of baked goods and wallow like a pig in all the dirty dishes. I may still do all of that but, by golly I'm gonna finish first.

The Hausfrau said...

I generally need a burst of both energy and inspiration in order to get started on major projects--I too have high hopes, but they alone aren't enough to get me moving! I also get sidetracked terribly easily; my husband says I'm like a toddler...

Anonymous said...

alison, you are such a good person to try to help us all out, while helping yourself. I have found though that to try to do it all in on day, week or month is just not my style. It may not be yours, either, and you just don't know it yet. Here is a site that I have used to help me break it down in bite size chunks, cause that is how I eat an elephant, one bite at a time. Love to you, Wendy

Sharon said...

always hold your plans loosely.....

Anonymous said...

Hi there
I love your blog and I have read it for an age, and I hope you do not mind but I have added your blog to my blogroll on my new site. :)
Melanie xxxx

myletterstoemily said...

my cousin lane, a hopeless anglophile, put me
onto your wonderful blog.

i look forward to MANY future visits!

Counting Your Blessings said...

I developed an eye twitch about 10 days ago. It's still here. And I'm wondering if this is what it's all come to. I'm 40. My red hair isn't entirely all natural. And now I have an eye twitch! What's next - hugging myself and rocking uncontrolably?

I feel your pain. Blessings... Polly

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