The shortest day

The clarinet playing went surprisingly well, though I really need to put in more practice for my lip muscles to not start to weaken.  I worry about what they’ll do at the church when I leave here and hope that someone else who can play an instrument will happen along in the next year or so.  I really am played out, I look forward to giving it up and being able just to play for pleasure again.

I forgot to put the chickens in again last night – or rather, I forgot to shut up the run.  I was surprised when I went to feed them, to find just one in a nest box.  She’s been sitting for several days, though she hasn’t any eggs underneath her and there was just one yesterday.  Anyway, once I started putting their food out, they all came running and they all returned.  i counted them all back and then shut the door.

I’d never realised that Russell received a fair chunk of his income in December, so I’ve got a number of cheques to pay in, which is jolly good.  I’ve sold the tractor, can’t remember if I said, so am pleased about that too.  I’m making gradual progress, though only by switching off thoughts I don’t want to have.  It was four months ago yesterday that Russell died, it feels forever.  I feel as if I’m in a bubble, I can function quite well but I’m shielded from the past and the future, there’s just now.  Starting to push beyond the bubble risks too much, I’m safer right here where I don’t feel too acutely, most of the time.  I know it won’t last but there is no point in emerging before I have to.  To change the analogy, I don’t want the scab to fall off before I’ve started to heal underneath, if possible.

I’ve eaten too much today.  I’m going to make peppermint tea and go to bed.  Goodnight, darlings.

7 comments on “The shortest day

  1. Blue Witch

    Bubbles are good.

    Half the youngsters I’ve ever worked with got/get through life using bubbles (either an imaginary layer of cling wrap that hovers a centimetre above their skin, or an overwrap of bubble wrap), as protection.

    Even when the natural bubble isn’t there for you any more, you can always conjur up a new one.

    I have a suspicion that you will be kept so busy by your long-term and hard-to-lose commitments, even though people ought to realise that you could probably do without them at present, that it won’t be until you are finally able to move home that everything really hits you. But I suspect you’ve thought of that.

  2. sablonneuse

    Well done for getting through the hymns on the clarinet -especially as your lip was a bit out of practice.

    Playing for Church services can be quite hard going when you’re ready to give it up but I think you’ve done more than your share and it’s time for someone else to give it a go. Enjoy your ‘retirement’.

    Take care of your bubble and let it hold and protect you until you begin to heal underneath the scar.


  3. Z Post author

    I’ve still got eight of the twelve bottles of Prosecco, plus a few champagne for emergencies. Thank you all, however clumsy my metaphors, you get what I mean.


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