I am loving today for the fact that there has been zero drama in my life recently.  Nothing.  No life issues, no moving house issues, no children or parent problems… no cars driving in to a house, no stress, no worries and I didn’t even care that the Sky man used ‘health and safety’ issues to not fit the new Sky dish, even though there are 2 already there!

 

As the adrenalin that has been keeping me energised for the past few months, seeps out of my body from between my toes, my headaches stop and I relax from the head and shoulders down so much that I found myself asleep on my bed as I waited for the shower to heat up (even though it didn’t) and again in the movies.

 

As I sit in my pink and green stripey chair, I hear the boys watching ‘hop’ for the g-zillionth time and eating their post supper cereal and fruit bowls and the Big Man is nearly home and about to pour long G&T’s before an early night.

 

All is good.  All is finally ‘boringly normal’.  All that left is a peace, happiness and blue haired joy.

 

The last time I thought that, the sh*t hit the fan.  Come on Universe – I dare you!

 

It was a day of the lost keys!

 

You can search for hours, looking in all the obvious places, retracing all your steps, emptying all your pockets, bags and drawers, turning everything inside out and upside down but find nothing.

 

And then you relax, make a plan B, get on with your life.

 

And then they turn up, in an unexpected moment, in the most obvious place.

 

It’s all rather metaphorical really, especially when we realise that the keys must have fallen out of a pocket as we had a pile-on, family sandwich huggle on the sofa last night.

I love the windows in this house.    Floor to ceiling old Georgian style sash windows or curving bays.

 

I love the views from this house.  Freshly mown summer green lawns and fields or flower beds bursting with lilies, roses and lots of other flowers of which I don’t the name.

 

I love each and every room of this house.  From each box, I unravel carefully packed and stored treasures and relish each moment of putting them in their new place in their new home.

 

I love our old friends as new neighbours to this house.  Fun times over tea and banana cake, rugby in the paddock and crazy golf on the lawns.

 

I found all my hearts today and spreading them around the house, hanging them on door knobs to share the love and let this house know how grateful I am to be here in a happy place, physically, mentally and spiritually.

 

 

 

If there was a day I would have liked to send myself back in time 9 months ago, today was the day.

 

I would have loved myself today to have been able to give hope and a stillness to my broken self of 9 months ago.

 

The blond, happy, joy-filled version of me quietly to sit on the bed next to the dark, lost version of me sharing my day to give hope and light.

 

Whispering to her, through her tears to tell her that she would feel peace, contentment and joy again; in the small moments as she prepared lunch, laying the table for her family on the sun drenched terrace;  as she listened to the wisdom of her mother in law, following her around the flower beds, a weed, a flower, to prune, to leave; as she unwrapped individual glasses and plates to put away in new cupboards alongside the Big Man;  as she glanced up to see her boys, happy, laughing, rolling on the lawns without a worry;  as she walked back from a quick local pub supper, unfinished glass of wine in hand to walk away with, with a wave and a smile by the local landlady ….

 

Perhaps my darker, melancholy self wouldn’t have believed it.

 

But perhaps she did hear the whispers, and she did feel the hope.

 

How else, would we have ever arrived here?

 

Either way, I am so happy we are here, right now.  Going further, doing more, being more than we ever thought possible.

 

This day, this moment, these moments make all the hardship, heartache, tears, worth it.


Everything is turning out just as we imagined…  It’s Friday night, we are in the boys’ den and Murray is on the new 65” thanks to Uncle Toddy.  We are on our feet and cheering and knocking over the G&T’s… life chez Mortimer is just as it should be.  And Murray is about to serve for the match!

 

In the words of Annie, “I think I’m gonna to like it here.”

 

Despite a tricky start to the day, with tiredness and emotions running high, after 20 minutes of the 3 of us left at home, in different rooms cooling down after ‘heated’ discussions on the landing about how our days in the summer are going to start – ie. Not Mummy running around tidying up after everyone’s dirty clothes, finished plates, unkempt beds and un-pulled curtains and rubbish generally everywhere….  And focussing on more respectful attitudes and behaviours towards each other and where we live.. – we all made up with hugs and apologies and we got on with our day.

 

Our day was a day to explore!  What was our new adventure going to involve…?

 

To the boys (and my!) delight we found a driving range and a tennis club less than a mile from the house.  100 balls smashed to 100 yards by the 2 boys and their moods lifted.  Good to know.

 

The city centre, more like a market square is less than 10 minutes walk and it sells nerf guns and nerf gun bullets for the boys and has everything I need, including somewhere to buy key tags for the 100’s of keys and locks around the house.

 

And Annie is back… ‘I think we’re gonna it like it here!‘

 

My favourite part of today, apart from seeing Murray smash his way in to the next round in a final game of unreturnable serves, was seeing the boys try on their new uniform at their new school.  The house matron, Mrs A, clocked the boys’ character immediately.  Tom my charming, handsome, polite young man, my angel baby grown up.  Willy, my little wolf in a sheep’s cloak…  shy and reserved until the little monkey is brave enough to reveal himself.

 

I think the boys are gonna like it there too.

 

If they are happy, we are happy.  And tonight, the boys can’t stop hugging us, wanting to be with us, telling us they love us.  I want to cry with relief.

 

The Mortimer’s are home.  And we love it.

There is a special place in my heart and memory of Speech Day. With the exception of caught cuddles and obligatory waves at weekly sports matches, Speech Day marked the end of the school year and moments away from the long summer with my family.  I fondly remember the excitement of waiting to catch that first glimpse of my Mumbo. She was always so glamourous and beautiful but because she was so little would always wear a hat, just so that I could see her arrive in the crowds.

 

Today was my first ‘grown up’ Speech Day at middle school, with the announcements of yearly prizes, accomplishment and accolade, and even though I had dropped Tom off that morning, I still felt the nervous butterfly excitement of walking in to the huge hall and looking out for him.  We caught each other’s eye, his coy, trying so hard to be the cool dude and not caring.  But I know him too well.  I know he was looking for me, forgetting my hair was still blond.

 

While Speech Day is the occasion to mark achievement in academia, sports and music, I was more than pleasantly surprised to hear the two key speakers focus more on individuality and uniqueness.  One using fingerprints as the metaphor to be yourself, leave your own mark no matter how big or small.  The other using the legacy of the Greeks and their two meanings of time; Chronos being the passing of actual seconds but more importantly Kairos, the right moment, ‘your time’ being now.

 

But my key take away and one I am inspired to put in to action, is the ‘to be list’.  I love my lists, my to do lists and ticking them off, mentally, physically and feeling that sense of achievement.  The guest speaker, an author of children’s books and researcher of happiness (!), Andrew Cope, reminded us all that we all had, on average, 4000 weeks of life and it was up to us to decide what to do with those weeks, hours and seconds.  And we would all be wise to remember, that when we are gone, that over nibbles, drinks and sandwiches, our loved ones left behind, will be talking about who we were and not what we did.

 

Tom may not be prize worthy in the academic sense now and may be not in the future, but it was the words of the headmaster as we said our goodbyes that made me more proud than any subject, sporting or musical award.

 

“Tom is a delight to be around, he will do well wherever or whatever he does.”

 

I hope one day they equal the number of school prizes for character, value and individuality as they do achievement.  But then again, maybe those who would be awarded those prizes don’t need it, they are far too happy living in the moment, appreciating Kairos and enjoying the celebration of others.

 

 

When I look back on today, there was so much fun, shrieks of laughter, giggles, pee in your pants moments as I sat all day in the hairdressing chair of my gorgeous friend and his clicketty, wizardy scissors… a new hair do for a new start, one of radical change,  lightheartedness, fun and one I love!

 

But as I sat in the same chair, my heart wept for the pain of another.  My heart so tender that it still feels what they are going through.

 

And so I sit here conflicted… I feel good.  I feel happy.  I feel at peace.  I feel safe.  I feel loved and in love.   But how dare I revel in my happiness when I know the plug has been pulled out of the bottom of their world?

 

Life is a balance.   Like my hair change, of dark to light, or light to dark.  While I am now in the lighter part of my life, I am now able to support those in the dark.

 

 

How strange the way the Universe works.  How it always knows best.  And then let’s you know about it.

 

I am beyond exhausted, but less grumpy tonight, or at least the grump didn’t last as long tonight.  Seeing the boys passed out, draped over arm rests and slumped in corners, fast asleep in the car as I arrived home made me realise how desperately tired they were too.  That their quick tempers, emotional back chat and uncharacteristically rude behaviour that wears me down, was due to end of term excitement draining them of energy by the time I find them at the end of the school day.

 

Imagine if plans had worked out the way I had so desperately wanted them to and we had moved here in May.  A 2 hour round trip to school, twice a day for 5 weeks, 6 days a week… getting home after 7 on match days and club evenings….  We have done 2 days and I can’t feel my legs, I can’t fathom my thoughts as I look out of my window to the beautiful lawns and fields.  I so wanted to be here earlier but I am so glad the Universe knew best, leaving me just 4 days to show me how right she is.

 

The Universe knows best.  It works in mysterious ways.  And I could apply this to so many things in the past, connecting the dots backwards for any upset, made good.  It provides a sense of calm, knowing that for the future.  I will have plans, but know that if they are upset, it is a redirection and the key is to remain open to flexibility and trust, have faith that everything will work out for the greater good.

 

This evening as I sit in my favourite room, on my lime green sofa, looking out of the windows on to the garden, I can feel the exhaustion setting in.  This evening, I am grumpy and short tempered, whereas earlier I was walking on the moon, way higher than cloud 9.

 

Even though I had spent a 2 hour round trip on the school run and battled with voice activated call centres or crashing websites to try and update the countless companies we rely on to know our postal address all morning, I found calm in a quiet meditation. And then I went off to explore.

 

I found delight in the little pleasures of living in the 4^th smallest city in the UK.   As I wandered round the square, I realised it doesn’t take much to make me beam with a smile at the moment and I am so happy to realise that, for my smile recently has been a difficult one to tease out.  I found everything I needed to bring Percy Bobcat to come and live with us this weekend;  he is going to love the mousing here and I can only imagine the number of ‘presents’ he will bring us on a daily basis. The joy in finding a good local butcher, cutting me 2 delicious ribeyes to celebrate our first adult only supper, some coasters with inspirational quotes to protect the wooden top of our kitchen island, pebbles with my favourite words for the ‘throne room’, the post office to send my goddaughter a congratulations card for winning a prize on speech day, new place mats with our initials on, a new washing line and pegs to hang out my laundry and a beautician that does CND nails and understands hot waxing.

 

My biggest smile was reserved for my Mumbo.  I have been thinking of her recently, as I deadheaded the roses creeping the house, along the terrace walls and lining the paths and in the beds.  Whenever I visited home, when she was alive, we would wander around her garden and she would tell me about her plants and her plans.  Was it strange I quietly spoke out loud to her as if she was there, telling her my plans?  Today she answered me as I flicked through some mounted, unframed watercolour prints.  The first one I flicked to, was a Kingfisher, proud, with a big fish in her mouth on a sign saying ‘No fishing’.  I guess she isn’t keen on the pond idea…

 

Even as I drove the 2 hours to get the boys, I smiled at the thought of spending an hour with Wayne Dyer. I listened to his top 10 rules for success and two of the stories that spoke to me really made me proud and also humble.

 

He told a story of losing keys just as power cut happened, so the man decided as there was no light inside to find his keys on the floor, he would go outside under the lamp post and look there, because there was light.  The metaphor, to me, was beautiful, a message to show how going elsewhere to find light to help you with your problems, is pointless.  The light you need is right where you are, within you.  My circumstances over the last year or so have shown me that.  No looking outside myself for comfort or pleasure has helped.  Only the work done inside on my head and heart, my mind and spirit has helped me find what I needed to move forward.

 

The second tale told of a boat; that every boat has a wake following it and the only way it moves forward is the energy that is being given at that moment in time to the engine.  I recognise that sometimes it has been so very hard to not look back at the wake behind me and each time I did, the boat would turn and take me back through the turbulent waters.  But now, as I recognise the wake is just a legacy, I can appreciate what kind of legacy I want to leave and I can focus on the moment and give energy to only that in order to propel me forwards to where I want to go and who I want to be.

 

And so here I am, giving energy to what I want to be in the moment.  A writer, sharing my light, regardless of how bright or dim it is.  But also a Yorkshire housewife, in a loving family home, a dream house, despite it’s leaks, and quirky door knobs, questionable wallpaper and avocado grey bathroom suites.

 

 

 

If in the last chapters, we have had ‘super Sundays’, in this chapter, they are looking more like ‘heavenly Sundays’.

 

After a good long deep sleep, the first in many months, it felt surreal to be waking up in our dream house.  A quiet morning, slowly pottering and unpacking, cooking breakfast and making Bloody Mary’s for our first visitors.

 

And then I did what I have been dreaming of doing for months, running to the bottom of the back lawn and throwing myself down and starfishing on the grass, gazing heavenward.  I said many thank you’s as I watched the clouds shape-shift, felt the soft breeze tickle my skin, ruffle the trees and listened to the gentle buzz, hum, purr and pop of the tractor mower as the boys mowed the fields under the proud and watchful eyes of the Big Man.  

 

As I let my senses come alive, I felt myself slowly melt away, my mind empty and my soul lift high above.  Everyone is happy in their own little corner of this magical space..

 

If there is a heaven, this is my version.