Tag: spring

New year camping out in the Arctic tundra….Dear Diary 2025..

Firstly I would like to take a wee moment to wish you all the compliments of the season, hopes for your continued good health and happiness over the long dark dreary winter season. I fully appreciate how difficult it is to stay in good spirits this time of year, the days turning cold, grey and somewhat unforgiving. Though for myself I find im kind of drawn toward the dense dramatic bold dark grey skies… giving me permission to take refuge amongst my thick fleecy Sherpa blankets, burrowing myself ever deeper amongst their protective fluffy warmth like a bear in its cave, its only the prospect of a tantalising hot Beveridge of that roasted coffee persuasion or indeed the bathroom forces me to vacate my snuggly nest😁…even then, momentarily!!! ..

I also feel the need during winter months to fill both the bedroom and living room with twinkling fairy lights, candles and anything that gives off even a modicum of warm light, finding the harsh white ceiling light (aka the big light as we call it here😊) somewhat aggressive, almost too cold infact for my mood to take on board ….I’ve plants also dotted about my living space, i take some solace in their fresh young green growth, perhaps bringing with it, some fresh promise of spring and the outside in more importantly… It’s not easy keeping them alive right at this moment…temperatures in the flat plummet each night… Friday in the early hours, whilst bravely making a much delayed foray over to the bathroom, I could actually see my breath😨…this I might add although not totally unexpected .. Tis disconcerting never the less….I’ve lost two plants already this winter, they were thriving just weeks previous, until the weather turned its steely back on the milder days…I won’t buy any replacements this time though, I feel terribly guilty watching them wilt away to nothing then die before my eyes despite my best efforts., Sage the budgie had even lost some of his vim and vigour up until I fashioned his cage a clear plastic Mac on three sides and the top, protecting my little buddy from the worst of the chill and or any draft, all the while still allowing him to see me, he hates not being able to watch what I’m about, even while I sleep…if I leave the room for any reason now within minutes I hear a little voice “where are youuuuu?, It’s a cute reminder of the banter long years ago when myself and my daughter called back and forth from our bedrooms at night 😊….

I’m into the fourth month of crocheting Beany hats, I’ve topped the forty I set out to achieve, spurred ever onward by the thought of the heads they cover trying to find shelter from this unforgiving weather, it’s a small contribution, one I can take part in, though I’m left all the while frustrated once more, living with this infernal disability steals away my ability to do so much more..to say my Damn it doll has taken a real good beating over the weeks is putting it mildly…😊.

Only going outside to feed my feathered friends has been of small comfort, the ground most days now rock solid under foot, Covered completely with a white sparkling hoar frost, although incredibly beautiful when the sun makes one of its rare appearances, it’s not quite so much for the starving wild bird population…I’ve been scattering the ground outside with oats, seeds, dried fruit, meal worms and blackberries that I had stored in my freezer….My old friend white feather the blackbird is particularly partial to these pre defrosted treats, even taken to bring he’s mate along for brief lunch date, my small patch of front garden has always been part of his vast local territory…he bravely chases off any rival other males, including any odd brave Crows…he knows no fear which used to surprise me at one point…not for long though, after watching him swoop down inches away whilst screaming with fury at my neighbour’s black and white Tom cat, …it’s become a real battle between them, the cats tail swishing back n forth, eyes glaring, I feared so many times that I would go out and bear witness to feline fatality …the large cat finally putting an end to white feathers demented tormenting….you will never know the amount of times I’ve rushed outside after hearing the birds shrill warning call to rescue him…only to find him in hot pursuit of his rival😁….I’m not sure if in fact it’s bravery or foolishness but I can’t help but admire it whichever form it takes…, I know his alarm call so well now that even im on my guard😁 , who needs a dog….

While into the third week of this my frosty hibernation period, I’ve not totally stagnated😊, And whilst procrastination is indeed one of my all time favourite words, how I dearly love a deep n dirty procrastination me😁, especially over coffee, But I meander of subject again,,, No infact I’ve put this time to some use at least.., See I’m in full throttle pre- spring, spring clean…you know spring cleaning but well in the winter😊…what else does one do whilst in perpetual incarceration?,oh I still read, binge watch my Nordic noirs, infact I’ve fallen asleep to so many Danish, Swedish, Finnish dramas im more than a little concerned that one of these cold mornings I may well wake up, strip off my pjs and roll around in the snow, Elskling!!!!!!! …..or maybe that’s the frost here….don’t worry I won’t I like my neighbour’s to much to offend their sensibilities😁,…

But while I’m going all Nordic on you…Some Swedish folk, when reaching a certain time of life….not that I’m admitting to ever reaching there yet ahemmmm😉…though my Husky drawn sled is hurtling faster towards Valhalla these days than one would like to own…But yes the good Swedish folk do this thing called Swedish death cleaning, it was I think if memory serves me, started by a lady called Margareta Magnusson in her book titled “The Gentle Art of Swedish death cleaning”…although it is in a point of fact not quite so gentle…. it can be almost savage!….well that tends to be my approach, all or nothing..

Margareta wrote to maybe begin with ones wardrobe….not possessing one, I set about rifling through my drawers😁, In mere moment’s, t shirts, shirts, shorts and socks flew over my shoulders before floating to the bedroom floor in a heaped mountain…the idea here being we are less emotionally attached to our clothes…..You ever tried parting up with that oversized t shirt…it may be creased to hell, full of more holes than shirt, stained…but you and it are bonded in life…it’s seen you through those times when you just couldn’t be asked to put on real grown up clothes, or nothing else was clean😏… now you’ve sentenced it forever to the pile of shame….the death pile…it’s almost like deleting people off Facebook….well no I lie there deleting people has become far easier these days 😁😁😁😁😁, ….. But within half hour, just thirty little minutes, I had myself a clothes mount Everest stuck in the middle of my tiny bedroom floor….Sage watching on in some amusement…What!!!! Chirruped out, as another oversized pair of pants spiralled through the air like an XXXXL parachute, before landing clumsily upon the best fake chandelier… Their still there to this day…..😁😁😁😁😁, no it’s ok their not really, I donated them to a local farmer instead for a feed barn😁😁😁😁😋. I’m good like this…

After clothes she urges us to go through our books, magazines, music and games….books, music, games I draw the line at…uh uh, I’ve relatives I would sooner part with than a book!!!!!, Well I love my books😁, ….Since December though I’ve made it a rule to throw out a bag of clutter weekly…my outside bins are permanently crammed, my patience tried sorely by unreliable Freecyclers, but I’m trusting the process…now if we can just keep me off Amazon long enough to not fill the new found space I’ve made we may be winning…..I don’t need that electric blanket though…..Treez back off from the phone…..no leave ittttt!, Ewwww comes in blue!, ….look at those handy under the bed boxes….I’m a lost cause seriously….Anyway folks I feel the need for something hot and tasty inside me….no oooops sorry, so sorry, that’s not a metaphor thingy damn!!!!, It’s a good job they don’t allow me out amongst decent real folks ain’t it😁😁😁😁😁😁😁, Anyhow enough from me, before I get myself into real bother…. Stay warm, stay safe and look after yourselves out there.🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄ 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Daffodil days and sleepless nights…..Dear Diary…

My pre wake up, wake up was originally around 4:30am, this being the third time of the night, I had been somewhat rudely awakened either by screams or someone shouting off in the distance, bed covers were somehow up and entangled someplace around my neck, although my legs were left bare and freezing, the rest of me was soaked through to the skin, heart pounding until it hurt against my chest …I looked about the room, fully expecting to find monsters of my dreams hiding in the darkened shadowy corners, lurking, Of course there was nothing there, logically I already knew this to be true. But trying to reconcile that with the not fully conscious fear induced mind is monstrous hard…Pulling my favourite blanket around me tighter I began working on my breathing, counting each breath as I went.., in through my nose out through my mouth, just breathe Treez!…Im thankful for years ago and learning yoga breathing out of an old book of my sister’s those many moons ago…At the time I never really gave it much credence, if honest, like most thinking it mumbo jumbo, in that moment though i was most grateful, having something other than the constant replaying of the visions before me to work upon, doing anything is proactive, plus useful for calming my speeding heart…as I awake fully, I know the screams that I had heard in the night, had been none other than my own, almost animal like in their terror…During the day I can control my reacrions to a certain extent,where as at night my subconscious digs deeper within the unexplored confines, regressing, finding out old buried weakness and plays them on loop….As I move about throughout that day,i have the smells, sensations of being touched and the voices around me for some time, it’s not till much later I realise im being over vigilant, scanning my surroundings constantly, my ears listening for any slight noise ….but at least now I’m wide awake….

I read,then watch an episode of a latest series on prime, anything to stave off further sleep, at 8am the darkness makes way for a shiny new dawn and although my head is still full of oneirism, I take comfort in my self inflicted routine, cold shower, hot coffee, work on the kitchen, laundry…these are boring, mundane, but I find I need this for now..I take a comfort from it….even though the Sun’s rising, the sky the most beautiful cobalt blue, I check the front door several times, it’s locked, I know it, but is it?, I question myself, or was it just a memory of locking it on previous days……i feel the over whelming need to indulge this…I push down the cold brass handle until it won’t move any further, the red and white candy striped string holding a line above the lock ring out almost in protest….but I know I will check this again….

I take a hot coffee back to bed, no plans to return to sleep, but I feel already depleted, it’s still early and there’s a real Autumnal chill in the crisp clear air, As I sip the syrupy(extra honey for shock😊) delicious hot drink it goes a long way to revive shattered nerves, as it’s warmth gives me that welcome hug, I form a stilted plan for my day….I will plant out the large yellow netting bag of mini daffodils, the same ones I had brought back in the beginning of September., Visions of clumps of golden trumpets nodding in the breeze next spring made me smile…..envisioning it and getting off ones mahoosive derriere to bring it about, are it seems two different things,(funny that😊) I know if I don’t knuckle down to the job fairly soon, the bulbs will go green alright, but not with spikey leaves, just a lovely growth of powdery mildew,🙄 no glorious golden swaying heads there then….😊, i tell myself it will be good for me, therapy outside in the sunshine, but persuasion be thy name coffee…I need another if I’m going to do hard Labour splitting rocks in the salt mines😊….ok stop the dramatics Treez, your planting Daffies for goodness sakes, not doing punishment, so why does it feel like it then….?😁

As the kettle comes to a shuddering halt, steam circling the chilly kitchen air, I’m all at once encased with the need to hear a comforting friendly voice..it’s overwhelming in its power…I require something or is that someone to help chase away the still visiting horrors of the night previous, I need to connect with a loved one, as one hand surrounds the comforting warmth of my coffee mug, the other bits the green dial button for my daughter,, knowing without a word leaving my mouth, she will sense something is amiss, there’s that bond as old as time itself between mother and daughter, as her laughter fills my ears it drowns out screams, not just the sound of it, but the physical ….I feel my shoulders relax, the high alert I’ve been unconscious of drops down a peg or two as does my over response to outside stimuli… There’s that whole safety in numbers thing at its best, I’m with my pack, my clan, I’m ok!

After hanging up, I feel an instant return to unease, it’s palpable, a cold loneliness eats away at me , Here I know I have to fight it, So taking the yellow net bag of Daffodil bulbs from the hiding place of the cupboard, plus a small trowel, I venture off out into the brilliant sunshine, I cannot sit myself upon the ground as it’s still wet with that mornings dew, kneeling is out of the question due to my knees, So with my back near to breaking I begin the odious task of bending to dig the holes, the grounds filled with bits of jagged stone, brick and broken rock, so whose idea was this again?, that’s right Treez it was in fact yours Genius!!!!!!!!😊, but as mutter curse words under my breath digging each pain staking blooming hole, I feel the warmth of the sun across my back, dirt fast becoming impacted in my once clean and tidy nails, feeling somewhat repugnant but glorious at the same time…I love feeling this sense of disorganised achievement, at one with nature, it’s silent healing, despite the aching protests of long ago atrophied muscles I get enjoyment from my Labours, looking forward all the while to a host of golden Daffodils, where now stands a Barron plot….50 bulbs later, I can barely straighten my back, my knees swollen and my head aches but the sense of fulfilling the task far outweighs the effort….still the night before hangs over my head, I’m glad to go back in to the safety of my confines, I lock the door and go make a cup of Ginger tea…happy in the knowledge later that day that I had successfully won at least one battle , by 4pm that afternoon I fell into an involuntary exhaustive sleep…did I dream ?, The sleep was so deep I’ve no recollection of doing so, sometimes my body takes over from my overly tired mind, bringing relief even if it is just temporary, it knows best…….I was once questioned or was that interrogated by someone in authority, who sat and stated that my transgressers of the past had not physically done myself any permanent damage….I and those that live about me would wholeheartedly disagree …although there’s no longer any scars, bruises from the physical or mental abuse, look within a survivors troubled mind for even a second and you will see the daily battle commence from waking that morning until exhaustion won’t allow us to carry on….it’s there written upon our hearts, minds and souls, with permanent ink……..whatever your up to this dull wet day, take care of you, stay safe until next time 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜x