Anticipation
Sep. 19th, 2013 11:01 amAilz asks me how I feel about going back to my mother's and I say, "Well, it's the next thing that happens." And she says she's sorry I'm so miserable and take so little pleasure in life and I get all defensive and say, "But I do. I enjoy things as they happen- like woodpeckers appearing on the lawn. I just don't anticipate..."
At which point I go off at a tangent- interesting in itself (at least to me)- but laying a trail away from the thing at issue.
The best things in life, I explain, are mostly those that jump out and go "boo", and the things you look forward to- like holidays and birthday treats- frequently disappoint. I tell her I try and take things as they come- calmly, without too much excitement or dread (the second is harder- dentist's appointments cast a long shadow) and when the nice surprises occur- oh, look, a woodpecker!- I do a little dance.
And then when the bad things happen I go into coping mode. And often the bad things turn out- in the long run- to be the good things- the things you learn from. And that's life, all upsy-downsy and back to front.
(I could have added- and will here- that one of the reasons I keep this blog is to remind myself that interesting and amusing and even wonderful things are happening all the time. If I didn't- with my short term memory- I'd look back and see a flat undifferentiated plain and wonder where the time went.)
End of tangent.
Returning now to the question I didn't answer- what do I feel about going back? The truth is I could cry. I could stomp my feet and throw things. I could go to bed and refuse to get up again. But we've taken on the care of my mother and we'll carry it through- so resignation is the better option. I like living in the country well enough, but living here- on a street in a northern town- is what I chose. It's no accidentI ran away to sea to be a sailor put over 200 miles between myself and my parents as soon as I could. I don't want to go back. But I suspect (see above) that it's good for me.
And there are bound to be woodpeckers and other stuff like that. We'll have plenty of fun- I don't doubt it- but nothing I can see on the horizon right now.
At which point I go off at a tangent- interesting in itself (at least to me)- but laying a trail away from the thing at issue.
The best things in life, I explain, are mostly those that jump out and go "boo", and the things you look forward to- like holidays and birthday treats- frequently disappoint. I tell her I try and take things as they come- calmly, without too much excitement or dread (the second is harder- dentist's appointments cast a long shadow) and when the nice surprises occur- oh, look, a woodpecker!- I do a little dance.
And then when the bad things happen I go into coping mode. And often the bad things turn out- in the long run- to be the good things- the things you learn from. And that's life, all upsy-downsy and back to front.
(I could have added- and will here- that one of the reasons I keep this blog is to remind myself that interesting and amusing and even wonderful things are happening all the time. If I didn't- with my short term memory- I'd look back and see a flat undifferentiated plain and wonder where the time went.)
End of tangent.
Returning now to the question I didn't answer- what do I feel about going back? The truth is I could cry. I could stomp my feet and throw things. I could go to bed and refuse to get up again. But we've taken on the care of my mother and we'll carry it through- so resignation is the better option. I like living in the country well enough, but living here- on a street in a northern town- is what I chose. It's no accident
And there are bound to be woodpeckers and other stuff like that. We'll have plenty of fun- I don't doubt it- but nothing I can see on the horizon right now.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-19 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-19 03:36 pm (UTC)My mother likes horses, dogs, gardening and afternoon tea and is (though she says she isn't interested in politics) a paid-up member of the Conservative party.
A family friend asked me why I didn't like gardening and I said it was because my parents made me pull up weeds when I'd rather have been reading books.
These days I have an affinity for weeds. My own garden is full of them.
God, but I'm contrary!