annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Five


  1. Big success of the day: I went through one drawer of my cupboard - a massive Victorian thing - and made three huge piles of assorted tops. One for charity shop, one to keep and one for possible use chopped up and made into a rag rug. I bought the mesh mat and hook for that about ten years ago, the fabric dye about five, so I'm edging towards it. But the success is throwing stuff out - I've been unable to do that since Sammie got really ill, over ten years. When I moved house in 2011 I couldn't do it at all and took every fucking thing with me. I didn't know at the time that there was a connection between grief and hoarding but as soon as I encountered that theory I could feel its truth. So I've been as gentle with myself as possible, even when I've been fed up at the amount of crap I'm carting around. It's bad enough being a bit fucked up without giving yourself a hard time over it as well. I have two more of the full width drawers and two half sized to do, slow and steady. They're miles too big to be full - there's stuff in there I haven't seen for years - one cardie that I thought, "There you are!" but the rest can fuck off. 

  2. Silent disco, sigh of bliss. Dancesepsepdan2sepdan3It's just the best thing. Beach, low tide, hard sand, sunset, dancing. This one was led by a Spanish dance teacher, in a gentle, do what you like kind of way. Although I couldn't keep up - the average age was probably about thirty, much much more energetic and swift than me - I liked that we all had the same music and were all dancing together rather than having three different channels which I sometimes find disconcerting. Sadly I started off trying to keep up and lasted less than ten minutes before needing a sit down as a matter of urgency, after which I took my shoes and jacket off, had a big drink of water and assumed my usual granny-dancing mode of shuffling about the place in time to the music, or at least to some aspect of the music. Then it was the long haul back up to the top of the beach - the tide goes so low before sand appears - it's only once or twice a month that it's seen at all - and that finished me off. Honestly, by the time I got to the top, huffing and puffing, limping like a motherfucker, I was thinking I need to face up to the fact that I'm past it. But I'm not. I need to face up to the fact that the walk up the beach, a steep slope consisting of irregularly sized pebbles which slide under your feet, is really fucking hard and requires a sit down after and maybe a coffee, before I even think of finding the car and driving home. 

  3. This evening I watched Karen Pirie, a new detective series based on Val McDermid's books and have been having a lovely, gentle, funny chat on Twitter about the ex-Eastenders actors in the cast. 

  4. Today I am grateful for a big hug from T who runs the disco, when I arrived at the beach. I like her and it seems she likes me, which is always nice, innit?

  5. Night night and keep safe, my bloggie friends. Thanks for reading xxx

12:11 a.m. - 26.09.22

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