annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Jan 26th
Much to my surprise, I made good choices today, which led to good results. Woke up knackered, really heavy in my body, as if gravity had been turned up to 11. Thought about not going to yoga, but couldn't contemplate missing it, so dragged myself there, along the bypass in the grey drizzle. Had that moment of utter relief as I lay down on the mat, closed my eyes and allowed myself to stop. I took this photo of the front of the class - the studio is in a cube built inside a converted church - from my mat I can see those stained glass windows - it's strange but cool.
The Sunday sessions have been almost the same each week, but today there were a few new asanas, including a short but deep relaxation half way through, which left me feeling almost stoned. I sat in the car for quite a while after, unwilling to let go of it, to force myself wide awake to concentrate on driving and traffic. And for once I went home, in the middle of the day - unheard of - and got into bed where I lay for a few hours, faffing about on my phone, and not giving myself a hard time over it.
Eventually I had a wee toke on my pipe, put some music on (I'm enjoying Romesh Ranganathan's Kid Friendly Hip Hop at the moment - I like hip hop but I don't want to run into any unpleasantness - so this is kid friendly and old white lady friendly too), and sat in my so-called craft room to have a contemplate of what was needed to make it the craft room of my dreams. That's how I always used to operate with that kind of task - sorting out the garden in the spring, etc - get just a little bit stoned, with some music that makes me move, and go at it, slow and steady, probably for hours. There's a lot to do - I sorted out the wool and some sea glass and made the shelves nice:
I didn't do anything to these two shelves below since I last posted a pic but I love them so here they are again:
The bottom one is very narrow - to be honest they don't look all that in a photo so you'll have to believe me when I tell you I love them and they're worth it.
What's left to do is organise the contents of two big cupboards which are currently holding mixed piles, boxes and folders of assorted sewing, painting and craft materials. I don't think I've had it all put away properly ever, so I have no idea what I have there and can't find anything when I want it. My conclusion is that it will all have to come out so I can see what's there, but this is a tiny box room, with no floor space, just a small table and a sofa. I'm not rushing into it.
But, here's the thing - I felt so good after spending my time in there, purposeful but not manic about it, that I managed to sort out our letter and photos for this year's Glastonbury - I don't know why I always find this so hard, but I do. Me, Daughter and Son, working in the Kids' Field, Daughter doing decor, me and Son doing book-making workshops, in exchange for a protected camping field and free tickets. Oh yeah. Apart from feeling so tired, I'm looking forward to it more than I have for a long time. I've hated being so far away from Sam these last few years, really hated it. But if I didn't go I'd miss the time spent with the other two, so I went but was anxious and preoccupied the whole time. It won't be like that this year - in fact I hadn't even realised how hard it's been till I thought about going this year and felt the difference at once.
We never know who'll be on till just before but this is the 50th so it's a big deal. So far we have Paul McCartney and Diana Ross confirmed, both considerably older than me so hope they make it. I thought Macca ruined the opening ceremony of the London Olympics, to be honest, but Son told me off for being negative, pointing out that a) he's a fucking Beatle b) he always has a tight little band and c) he'll do all the hits so it'll be a right sing-along and we know all the words. He's right, isn't he? I feel so lucky to have two adult kids who want to do this with me - though our crew is made up of lots of multi-generational groups. My pal R came last year with her daughter, her 20 year old grandson and his girlfriend; D had three of her little grandchildren there. Bloody lovely it is.
Feeling very proud of myself for having written the letter, printed the photos and found the address, I walked down the road with the dog to the post-box, chucked it in and thought fuck it, I'll phone Son-in-Law, right now, quick, before I chicken out. I've needed to contact him about Sam's share of the mobile home being transferred to Grandson but I've avoided it for ages because I don't want all this shit that's come with her being dead, it's horrible, and I want someone else to do it. But they won't and I just did it and it was OK.
All of which came from me resting up a bit, like I could have done any time if I'd had more sense. Two things I've struggled to do, all done and dusted, now to bed.
I am grateful for: Daughter and Son; having a little room to make mine; having an old friend who runs the Glasto kids' field; no need to be up early in the morning; yoga, blissful, beautiful yoga.
Night night xxx
12:36 a.m. - 27.01.20
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