The General
A Day at the Fair
On October 10, 2017 by Speranza
Every fall, The General and I earnestly promise to attend one of the local agricultural fairs – and then somehow it doesn’t happen. Usually, I’ve had to work and then we forget or get absorbed in the minutiae that comes with keeping the house going. In other words, it hasn’t exactly been a priority.
But lately there has been so much sadness around us. The kind of sadness that presses down on you, making it hard to take a decent breath; it presents itself upon awakening, I can feel that tiny jungle drum in my heart, warning me that nothing in life is static or safe. I know this feeling well and I understand that it has been re-ignited by the passing of friends and family of friends, lately, by world news, giving “fresh hell” a whole new meaning. But in order to be happy now, right now, I can only focus on the everyday things that delight me. Obviously, we’ve all heard this before via Oprah, the Buddha himself or those dreadful Facebook memes but it’s still valid.
Which brings us full circle to the agricultural fair.
Being A Mum . Frasier and Niles . Love . The General
Mother’s Day
On May 21, 2017 by Speranza
A week has passed since Mother’s Day but I still wanted to blog about it because there are very few perfect days in life and this was one of them. It’s strange too because it was free of most of the things I have enjoyed in previous years, such as breakfast in bed and lacy, velvety cards with the sort of tender doggerel that can swiftly lead to a sad afternoon on the couch contemplating one’s own mortality if you’re not careful.
But there was none of that.
Gay Husbands . Getting Older . Grey Divorce . The General
Grey Divorce
On January 29, 2017 by Speranza
The General and I were having our usual Sunday morning coffee discussion group today (only 2 people permitted, dressing gowns required) and listening to a superb documentary about “grey divorce” which caused us to sit exchanging (sometimes worried glances) as women discussed either having to leave their partners of many decades or being left themselves, each terrifying for different reasons. Of course, for the person who leaves, that ‘terror’ is often closer to excitement: the beginning of something new and a totally fresh start sponged clean of predictability, routine and the other assorted shackles of family life.
Cleaning . The General
Winged Messengers
On October 27, 2016 by Speranza
The last few days I have been noticing that I have a few tiny, tiny holes all in a row on some of my clothes; the pure cotton ones that I really like.
This has not pleased me.
At first, I thought the material might just have caught on a zipper or torn without me realizing, (yes, this is the kind of ridiculous self-talk that can happen when one really, really wants to keep watching The Durrells in Corfu snuggled up with The General, rather than skivvying out a clearly infested closet;) but finally, yesterday when, alas, I noticed that my prized Ann Taylor white shirt had been damaged, (rather like a tiny skater had been in winter training) I knew that I had to do the google search to see which particular plague was now upon me.
Sadly, I have since learned that this is most likely the handiwork of the common clothes-moth (not to be confused with his much uglier, foodie counterpart with whom I am very familiar with (I’m looking at you, bulk-store walnuts!) nor the dreaded carpet beetle fellows (who masquerade as fat grains of rice till the gig is up) that I did battle with a few years ago, after losing several corners of my pure wool area rugs to their gluttony. These tiny villains were eating carpet rows like corn on the cob, the wee bastards, and I had to freeze the rugs outside over the winter to get rid of them …
And, afore ye judge, let it be known that I am a devotee to the Dyson vacuum, and vacuum regularly so all this seems most unfair, puzzling and not a little unsettling.
Gardening . Nature . The General
Room for Wrent
On August 6, 2016 by Speranza
I bought a bright red petunia in a hanging basket earlier this summer and noticed recently that a tiny nest had appeared in between the blooms – it looked just like an upturned half coconut.
Shortly before making this exciting (to me) discovery, I had already heard a feisty, stripey little bird singing his heart out every morning (and throughout the day) in three distinct places; the highest peak of the garage, the fence, and just beside this plant. I consider myself a bird enthusiast only so I had to look at him very closely and do a bit of googling to identify him as a Marsh or more likely, House Wren.