After a really wet and blustery August, September is coming in all sunny and settled. Longer, cloudless nights make the morning air as crisp as a glass of the best white Bordeaux. I remember days like this when I would do a ten mile bike ride down to the sea, or a five mile hike through autumnal woodland. Nowadays I make do with a fifty yard stroll to the nearest blackberry bush. However, it still remains one of my favourite times of the year. I've still got that 'back to school' feeling and a kind of excitement about days ahead.
I've been far too busy for comfort. Today is the first in a couple of weeks when I've had nothing in the diary and time to myself, time just to process and rest. When I found my voice last week and stood up to that abusive bully I expressed a lot of anger. If this was Hollywood this episode would have ended with me suddenly becoming this equanimous house angel, smiling and loving. Actually, the reality is that I've become rather emotionally labile, intolerant and liable to fly off the handle at the slightest thing.
I had a last minute invitation to a drawing workshop on Saturday which was much more intense and harder physically than I was expecting. I started this amazing drawing. The earlier release seemed to allow something to flow which I haven't felt since childhood. Heavy rain sent me home where I immediately crashed in near paralysis. AJ had taken Little R to a folk festival. I think he rather felt I should have been along with them, but folk festival? No way. Unfortunately he had stripped the bed and not remade it. Nor had I, not being able to move my arms much. The resentment was palpable on both sides.