Archive for September, 2015

“Blog Cabin”

Posted: September 11, 2015 in Uncategorized

She Shed. Woman Cave. Her Hut. Haven of Tranquillity. Divorce Prevention Unit (DPU). Kaleido Kabin; just a sprinkling of the monikers ascribed so far to the creation that has been brewing, slowly, surely, sometimes surreally, in my little head.
Our family home is a veritable cacophony of clobber and clutter, a barefaced brag of musical instruments, not to mention a museum of my man’s myriad artefacts and a deeply detrimental dose of amps, power tools, chargers, nuts, bolts and reams of ‘in progress’ paperwork strewn across the kitchen, and now my brain is closing down. I can’t breathe. I need some space. A space. My space.
For a long time, I’ve been yearning for this space. Somewhere I can write without my peripheral vision being encumbered with ‘stuff over which I have no control’. Please note, dear reader, that I have bought my husband countless filing systems in the vain hope that he might someday start filing his receipts and paperwork, but over time, the filing boxes have merely multiplied the muddle. Not dodging fault entirely, however, I have accepted a portion of the blame and spent much time de-cluttering my own things. I’m sure I own the fewest pairs of shoes in the history of girldom. Nothing new there. Everyone knows I’m not a shoe girl. Two bags, one for work, one for not-work. I do have quite a few hats, but I do wear them. They disguise my bad hair days. They cover up my face a bit. Everyone’s a winner. And yes, I have books and CDs, but when I shuffle off my mortal coil I want my son to discover some of the things I once read and listened to, by looking at an actual shelf and picking actual things up off it. Not going down the characterless cyber route, by having to guess a password and then by chance happening upon some random music mum had once downloaded onto the laptop or by seeing my ‘recently played’ on Spotify. And would he bother anyway? I wouldn’t. So, I have pared down my possessions to what really matters to me. It feels good. But still, the communal chaos prevails.
So, back to the log cabin. Yes, that’s what it will be. A proper log cabin. I’m using my savings to have it built. I have, for months, been agonising over whether this is a massive, narcissistic extravagance, a ridiculously self-centred pipe dream that should stay firmly in its pipe, and whether I should just stop dreaming and put that money into the mortgage. But then that’s where all the rest of my money is, and life is way too tiny, so the answer to that was a resounding (excuse me) ‘F*CK NO’.
No, for my life to feel like my own again – if that sounds selfish, it is totally meant to – then I need this space. Somewhere for me to write, to play my instruments, to practise yoga (without the usual accompanying dog hair, toys, dogs, postman watching through the blinds at me in a headstand – not a look you want people to see when you’ve been upside down for three minutes and your face resembles a worrisome pink blob). Somewhere to chant when I have my Buddhisty moments, and even somewhere to sleep in times of hormonal imbalance, when the world is a safer place with me secreted at the bottom of the garden.
In my dreams, this little place will also have a secret bunkroom for my boy, so he can join me in my childlike escapism. Even his dad will be allowed in from time to time if he behaves, takes his boots off at the door and promises never, ever to bring so much as a whiff of a cigarette to within ten feet of the building.
I have to keep reminding myself, the money I’m spending isn’t about buying a ‘thing’ but an experience we will all benefit from for years to come. Happy me, happy kid, happy home. I hope.
So, that’s my pipe dream. And now it’s about to emerge from the pipe, like a rather expensive puff of magic. Watch this space. This one, here:
hole

E.T. Exciting Times

Posted: September 1, 2015 in Uncategorized

quill

As a shiny new school year descends upon us, and my pocket-sized person prepares to don his newly labelled uniform and book bag for the first time, I’m heading back to my career roots as a journalist/editor and am available for copywriting and proofreading. And, once my much yearned-for Woman Cave/She Shed/Her Hut has been built, in a couple of weeks, then I’ll truly be raring to go, in my very own creative haven at the bottom of the garden. So, if you need me, in a word creating or correcting capacity, I’ll be right here. Like E.T. Only not as pretty.