just deal with it

One of my favourite children’s books is I’m not cute, by Jonathan Allen. A teeny baby owl insists that he’s a big fierce hunting machine, despite the cooing and gushing from all he encounters. Look, I’ve got long claws and big eyes and huge wings. I’m not cute.

It’s interesting how we perceive ourselves. Over the past few months, two different people have referred to my blog as ‘sweet’ and, while I smiled and thanked them and chatted about blogging in general, inside I’ve turned into Baby Owl.

Sweet?

That’s probably better than ‘boring’, but still, sweet?

I don’t want me this to be sickly, naive, unchallenging. I can probably cope with gentle, uncomplicated, but where’s the edge? I’ve been told I have a sunny disposition. I met a former senior manager of mine a few weeks ago who told me he always remembered my positive outlook. Is it possible that I am Pollyanna? Might that not be a little dull?

I tried to consider what the blog might be, since I wasn’t content with sweet.

Oh, I’m grumpy and exhausted and I complain a lot about the government, welfare cuts, ME, services for people with rare diseases. Ha! That’s not sweet.

Um, no, but I don’t really want this to be the ravings of a cantankerous old loon either. Also, my complaining  usually consists of linking you to articles, blogs and people who can string an argument together, since I’m either too outraged or too tired to do it myself.

Alright then, what have I been writing about that has led people to think this is a world of sweetness?

Family, beaches, holidays, dogs, adventures, nights out, volunteering, caravan… Hmmm.

Oh.

It seems I’m living through a, temporary I’m sure, untraumatic phase in my world. That’s a wonderful thing to recognise. Right here, right now, even if only for today, all is well.

Life might even be sweet.

lately…

.

I haven’t been writing much. The notebook is full of headings, prompts, ideas. When I come to turn these into posts, they become the actual words in between the photos. That’s not quite what I want to be doing, but this ‘summer’ is different. I’m not joining the dots.

This time last year my head was full. Herself had just gone and died on us. I was in shock, in turmoil, and in physical pain. I was exhausted, but my brain was buzzing, trying to process the new world order. I wrote and wrote.

These holidays, my world is calmer. My brain has relaxed. I’m still fatigued, but with ME, that’s not going away any time soon. Physical pain is confined to my limbs- the chest pain went away in time. Everyone said it would.

I’m not crying- just a discreet drip after we left the Brother’s family, having had a week together sitting about blathering while cousins caused chaos. A wee drip, sure it was hardly worthy of the name ‘a cry’.

The not buzzing brain means I’m not using the blog to work out my thoughts or to vent as much- well, not until now…

People who know me have said that reading my blog is like listening to me chat. I quite like that, but maybe that’s not all it could be. Then again, attempts at writing about anything other than me and mine have been neither successful nor rewarding.

I’ve been on holiday and my mind had switched off. That’s a good thing. That is- I’ve been lead to believe- perfectly normal.

I have a paper to write for the rare disease partnership. There are plans to plan, events to attend, people to persuade. My mind will kick back in as best it can pretty soon.

This blog will develop as it develops. There will be muddling and chaos and music and book reviews and woes. There will be photographs to attempt to capture what I don’t have words for.

I’ll just keep on trundling along. This blog does what it says on the tin…

beautiful and chubby

Chubby sticks.

Lipstick in crayon format.

Like a twistable.

Worthy of investigation, surely?

If this was a television event I’d be marketing it to you as ‘LIVE’ because I’ve started to write the post without opening the product. You’re going to be getting reactions as they happen. Go on, at least pretend to be excited.

First off, how could anybody not like a product called ‘chubby sticks’? Being a stick insect is not required. It references cute, cuddly, non threatening. Accessible to all. Humour. It’s a crayon- fun, bright colours, easy to use.  Make up for real people.

Those who know say it’s a sort of mixture between a lipstick and a non sticky gloss. Marian raves about it. Her enthusiasm is infectious, so I was delighted to get a gift of, not one, but two chubby sticks and a rather cool wee pencil case for them to live in.

Clinique call these “moisturising lip colour balm”, and in truth, that’s what they feel like. Gentle, with colour. Soft. I’ve got neutral type colours that look like they will be easy to wear everyday. I don’t often need ‘statement’ type make up.

People, I’ve realised why I don’t do make up posts. A close up of an unmade up face, with only a neutral coloured moisturising lip colour balm to hide behind… eek!

That feels so much more exposing than any amount of rambling about brain fog, gabbling about grieving or venting about volunteering.

Laugh long and loud. Enjoy. You may never get this chance again!

the secret to looking good

Blogging makes me a better observer of my world. I try to find a story in the everyday; to find the humour in the mundane; to value what goes on around me.

Last year I started to take photographs. Some of you may remember that photography used to be an expensive thing to get wrong. I never learned how to get it right. Now, I keep the camera about and pretend the worst shots never happened. I’m getting into the habit of taking pics where once I’d simply have been too self concious to even try.

When going out for a walk at the weekend (a regular trundle by the river when I have the energy) I came back in to lift the camera. Why? “Because I look better when I have the camera…”

the ultimate accessory

Think, people, of all the money I could have saved on hair gunge, skin ungents and face colour inners. I need not give weightwatchers any more money for meetings. I don’t have to buy flattering clothes, or leg extending shoes.

All I need to do is carry the camera.

No need to thank me for this wisdom; some secrets are meant to be shared.