Friday 29 May 2015

Two months to go: ticking things off the list

We leave in Cornwall in just about two months. I can't quite believe it, just the other day it was three. We've started sorting through our flat, trying to reduce our 'stuff' to make moving as stress free as possible. We've started thinking more about our travels in August and about what on earth life might look like come September.  And we're trying to make our weekends fun and full of making the most of people and places that we'll soon be leaving.

Between February and May 7th, my life mainly consisted of rolling from my bed to my desk, working frantically for 9 or 10 hours, possibly going swimming to train for the 5km Swimathon I'd madly signed up to, and then going to bed again with hubby and an episode of House or Nashville.

But in and amongst all that I did manage to tick a few things off my 'before I leave Cornwall list' (that may not actually exist anywhere on paper but is in my head!). Now, as life returns to a slightly more normal pace, and I recover from election madness, hopefully I'll tick off several more.

Tuesday 19 May 2015

Those days and those other days

Some days the sun shines and it's warm on your skin and the easy train journey takes you past gorgeous views of golden sand and blue skies and turquoise sea. And you get to unexpectedly perform poems outside under the warm sun, and speak words of hope out into a hidden square in St Ives. And you visit a friend in a craft market who loves your poems and has a colleague who's a twin.  And you've happened to bring your twin poem, so - in your happy sunny mood - you recite it right there in the craft market and the other twin totally gets it and you can hand her that poem on the wrinkled pieces of paper (and you think - definitely get more twins in the audience in future!). And then you go to the spoken word event you actually came for and your friends turn up to watch/listen to you and you get to stand on the stage in the Arts Club and tell some of your story for ten minutes to a listening room. And then you buy a beer and walk on the sand in bare feet and drink in the wind and the evening light and think 'YES all this is what I'm made for'.