Kate's Half Century

I dreamt last night of my little Katie girl. Awoke in the small hours thinking of the loneliness she must of felt those last few weeks.
And on this special day I shed a tear for each of her fifty years. Most of them for the joy of knowing her.

Relentless time

This time stuff. Tricky fluid. Some moments moving too quickly when life is desperately late; the next moment dragging treacle slow, waiting for the world to catch up. But always, relentlessly, moving in one direction.

No amount of looking into the past changes the future. And gazing hopefully into the future is only second guessing what's around the corner. Each day that brings happiness justifying that hope.

Fires gone out. Feet chilled, warm head with a beanie hat pulled down over my muffled ears. Warming my thoughts.

On Wednesday, Kate would have been 50. Five-oh. A landmark amount of time beneath her little feet. Alice remembered to remind me, but - despite my frankly dire ability with a calendar - it's a date that's burnt into my mind. I feel for myself, and the kids, that I need to celebrate. However hollow that may seem.

And I have some very understanding friends who can cope with my feelings. Having to share me with a memory. Thanks to all and one.

Pleasure and pain

Been playing Delores since Thursday night. Well. Almost. Third Thursday session at Tibenham Greyhound. Good fun friends. Her name is Rio and she dances - bluegrass style.

Long, soon over, night of gambling at a friend of Jen's to raise money for Children in Need on Friday. Roulette, blackjack, Escelado - wind those horses! - and countless rounds of "Chase the Ace" on a board borrowed from Shelfanger Fete.

Sharp frosty early morning carting chilled steel rusty scrap for a handful of sheckles before slapping some skiffle with Kiwi Pete on Saturday night, John banjo-ing, fingers sweating, blisters forming, Jenny driving and suffering to stay awake...

Home to a dead sleep bed, up seconds later, and back to Norwich with a bus full of kids. Shopping in the penny and pound cheapskate heaven of Anglia Square. Greasy spoon lunch for seven.
Running across town to a second session of skiffle at the Shed. Blisters wrapped in gaffa tape to numb the pain. Aspall cider and a bowl of olives, jalepenos, and cheese certainly helped too!

Feeling burnt out and beautiful...

Kicking through leaves

Cooked quiches, made chutney, played scrabble, drank wine. Friends came calling; tea, chat and a chill. Caught out in the rain on a short monkeybike trip, sheltered in the trees. Kicking up the leaves.
Happiness ten-fold.
Passion-a-plenty.

Autumnal passion too

Enjoying the golden brown drive this morning - vivid reds and yellows made brighter by sunglasses on a cloudless day.
Passionate thoughts turn to whether I'd like to make love on a bed of leaves. Or wrapped in blankets on a winter deserted, sunset beach.

Or whether I'd prefer a nice cup of darjeeling and a piece of shortbread by the woodburner, watching Ugly Betty. I sometimes feel old age creeping up and tampering with the odds. Well. It's something to fight against...