I've decided after 9 weeks, it's time to stop counting the days. We're allowed out, we're allowed visitors, the numbers are dropping and to be quite honest I can't remember what day it is anyway. I used to know because I blogged every day but that isn't happening anymore. The novelty of quarantine has lost it's interest, we have lived through extraordinary times and survived: a month in France, having to leave the house with dated paperwork; a fortnight in a hotel room; home to real life again, something I had hoped to delay for another year by travelling but which was not meant to be.
Roofs have been looked at, handymen have come and gone, filters replaced, firewood delivered, firewood stacked as it has never been stacked before; stoves fixed, junk thrown out. The daughter has cleaned the floors within an inch of their lengthy life. I have cleaned things that I never knew needed to be cleaned in the thirty three years of my living here. We are on top of a piece of fluff as soon as it appears. The kitchen is in a constant state of being wiped over and cleansed, cockroaches daren't appear anymore. I have almost cooked my way through a cookbook; had long, laughter filled dinner parties, have lit the brazier many a time and spent more time in the gazebo than in all it's eight year existence.
I realised tonight that my daughter and I enjoy eating outdoors, being outdoors because of our lockdown experience in the hotel; maybe it had more of an effect than I thought. Tonight we lit the fire pit even though it was starting to rain. We had our dinner there, we made manifestation wishes on the new moon with our girls who live at the bottom of the garden, covered ourselves in blankets and remained there until the rain got a bit too heavy and we began to freeze.
I haven't entertained this much since I first moved in here, I used to have carefully planned dinner parties with hand written menus and three course meals, perfectly presented. A year ago, I wouldn't have ever contemplated doing that again. I was worn from the effort of surviving a few tragedies in my life, but I'm having a second flowering. Some of it because of Covid and the fact that eating out is not a thing at this point and eating in with wonderful friends is; and some of it is because last years travelling gave me the space to begin to heal.
Today I started another painting course with a wonderful group of arty people who are supportive and kind. It's been a year of having to let go of all expectation and become adaptive. We are surviving.
Still playing with blend editor, have the perfect model and blossom photographed in Bordeaux.
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