On my way home.
It is difficult to pick up where I have left off. The last time I was home seven weeks ago the almond trees were about to blossom. The field had been dug to mud and roots by the sanglier and the rain poured down. The iris's are now in full bloom, the morning glory growing up the front of the house. The virginia creeper, creeping every which way over the house and up to the guttering which is bowing under the strain. The field is full of wild flowers and poppies are already thinking about coming out. So what can be so difficult. Not much, just getting used to being home again, being myself again, and picking up the threads of when I left.
Weaving them back together softly and gently, I have been away since the begining of September and it is sure to feel differant. I will feel differant. I hope not to be agitated and frustrated and irritable, that is what usually happens when I get home, the perfectionist in me comes out and everything about me feels wrong. I want to put it right there and then, I tire myself out, become angry and get cross with David. No threading no gentle weaving, just cross tearing at the paper and hoping for a good result.
I hope that I have learnt things whilst I have been away, I hope that I have learned that life isn't perfect anywhere, wherever I am. I hope that I have learned that I have a good life, a beautiful life, filled with love and friendship. I hope that I have learned to have more gratitude for everything that makes up my life. I hope to have more compassion, forgiveness and understanding. I hope to be a better person than I was eight months ago.
I think I have learned more patience, I think I have learned that I cannot reach for the top without taking the little steps, and that I often take on too much. I also feel that I have learned to be happier with everything that makes up my life.
Watching my father, helpless in a nursing home, losing my step mother, seeing a dear friend recover from cancer. Reading the news and the horrific happenings around the world, make me know how grateful I am for each passing moment in my life.
I am glad I still have this blog, I was going to give it up, I write so sporadically nowadays, that I have felt little point in it. But as I weave the threads of my life back together, the words will come to find me and then find their place in the world that they are meant to be in, and all will be well.
Love to you all
Tess
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