Lads, lads, lads. I missed a blog innit. Actually I missed two. I don’t think anyone besides be noticed or was disappointed by it, so I could probably get away with not drawing attention to it. HOWEVER, Catholic guilt forces me to acknowledge the error of my ways and to apologise profusely for it.
The main reason I didn’t write any blogs for two weeks is because, while there’s been lots going on, I don’t really have a lot to say about any of it in particular. Still don’t, but if I leave it any longer, I may implode. So here’s a really quick run down of some (but not all) things that have happened in the last two weeks:
- I made crème brulee. Literally about ten minutes ago, which is why I’m mentioning it. It’s still fresh; haven’t even cracked its lid yet, mates. (Took a quick brulee break from writing thing and smashed that sugar in good and proper. Let’s just say Mary and Paul would have been less than impressed with the texture, but would have awarded medium marks for taste.)
- I swam quite a lot. I very much loathe to admit that exercise is good for the soul, but admit it I must. I went in the Commonwealth pool last week when it was 50m long and 2m deep. If you don’t know me, bear in mind I’m quite afraid of water, so this was an intermediate Big Deal. I did ten whole lengths and managed to not drown. Just rackin’ up them aspirations and knockin’ ’em outta the park. (Haters, quit worrying about my low level of achievement here; I went and did 25 at my normal pool this morning (normal pool = half the size << for all you maths wizards))
- We built two new wardrobes, a set of drawers and a shoe cabinet. There’s always something about flatpack furniture that taps into my inner carpenter. I believe this is the legacy that Jesus left us when he died for our sins; that one day we would all be able to successfully place each distinctly labelled screw into its corresponding hole with ease, so that even if couples argue throughout the entire buying, building and positioning process, they can look upon their shoe cabinet when they’re finished and be glad.
- My bestie came for a visit with her beau, proving, as always it doesn’t matter how long we’re away from one another, we can still do a really fucking GREAT Back Street Boys sing-a-long.
- I started reading Amy Poehler’s memoir, Yes Please. Very nearly finished it and can say it’s been as funny and great as I expected it to be.
And now, please don your aprons, for beans are about to get spilled…
“Marianne, you haven’t mentioned anything even vaguely work related, despite your previous, exquisitely written blog post about all the fun stuff you’re researching as a PhD student!” I hear you cry…
Guyyyyyys, I’ve had to take an interruption of study for a wee while. UGH, I know. I shall explain things in really basic terms, a) because the details make me sad and b) because the details aren’t something most people would wanna read over lunch.
My brother, David, died about 16 years ago in a really unpleasant way, the knock on effects of which have spoiled most good things in life up to this point. Right now it’s all getting hashed up and relived and “sorted out” by various bodies (not sure how much I’m allowed to say in a public forum and I’m too lazy to go downstairs and ask my mum. BTW, I’m back in Yorkshire right now. My whippet says hi). It reached a point about 10 days ago where my concentration had completely evaporated and I couldn’t read or write more than about three words on any given page before giving up to go and stare wistfully out the window – this is not conducive to good research or poetry practices. So I took time off. It was hard to admit that I would have to and I’m still not really happy about doing it – I feel like I’m missing out on EVERYTHING already. But at the same time, it’s nice to be able to breathe in and out without fear of disintegrating under the enormous pressure of Too Many Things.
And guys, while we’re redecorating the kitchen with these giant beans I’m gonna go right ahead and tell you about my other brother, Robert, who also died 7 years ago. In comparison that happened in much more peaceful and acceptable circumstances, but it was still extremely sad and didn’t help with all the aforementioned “knock on effects”.
FYI, I am NOT good at talking about this in face-to-face situations. Also, this is not a cry for help or sympathy, just a passing on of information that I generally keep private…but apparently it’s not healthy to internalise feelings of despair and grief?? Who knew? Largely friends know about 1 or neither of my brothers, depending when we became friends. But now everybody knows about them both because my blog is really popular and widely read.
Right, I’m going to go and cuddle a really cute baby now! (DW, I know the parents; I’m not mentally disturbed enough to just pick up any old baby off the floor!)