Grief Recovery Holiday
Sorting Out My Shit
Long-time no scribe, apologies if you’ve missed my rants. 2019, after being immobilised by grief for December/January, has seen me trying to sort my shit out…on every level!
I figured in order to grow my fledgling business, I finally needed to figure out ‘how to’ Instagram. Which sounds more like a cocaine delivery service to me, anyone else?
Learning New Tricks
Too manifest this new level of intelligence, I went on an Insta course. Fortuitously, there were only a couple of younger more able bodies so I didn’t feel totally overwhelmed, tho we got painfully hung up on #’s (hashtags) for an age!
Giving in the Modern Ways
Personally, it’s not my bag to offer a visual window into my life, I prefer to bare my all with words, retaining a modicum of anonymity. However, as I’m sure you already know, Insta don’t work like that, so I’ve had to condense my verbosity into hashtag soundbites…..Which probably make sweet FA sense, I’m certainly picking up some unusual followers, but hey I am trying!
Nostalgic for Print
Tho I do have to admit to feeling rather put out by all the time & effort it takes to pull all this ‘apparently’ necessary social media off! I’m seriously time poor, my pre-Insta life was already jammed…And this has sprouted a new irritation, nostalgia for the good old days of only print media …. pre-social media…Yet another annoying sign that I’m #gettingold! #arse #pastit
Grief Therapy
Coupled with this, and as promised, I slung my bereaved self into therapy, ha! I didn’t reckon upon, despite 30 years of previous, a weekly unearthing of many traumatized skeletons I’d happily buried. I will acknowledge, this rather costly self-awareness does mean I’m powering through, but Jesus Christ it’s painful and does require me to spend yet more precious time silently retreating and absorbing.
Escape to Scotland
Since Dad died, all I’ve wanted to do was escape to Scotland, our Mother Country, to mourn in peace.
Back in Time
Well, I managed to finally pull that off & we were ensconced in an antiquated, damp, smelly but beautiful old cottage with the most amazing views, in the arse end of nowhere….so remote there was no phone signal…really absolutely nothing!
The uninsulated upstairs, was doll sized, accessed only by a slippery spiral staircase of doom…. Journey time, requiring serious consideration, was around 3 minutes in either direction…making me feel ancient! There were storage heaters throughout…. imagine the temperature of coastal Scotland in February!
Coal Fires
For any real heat we were reliant on a coal fire…. the regular building of this made my ‘fire-starter’ spouse mucho happy…but there was only 1, in the living room. So, he spent all his time in there when we’re were able to be in….at night…not helping me to heat up our equally doll sized double bed.
Wet Dog Smell
This 90’s pine creation, smelt of wet dog…. I cannot express in words alone, how much I absolutely hate the smell of wet dog…..I oiled that bed to the point it almost didn’t creak anymore, in a bid to mitigate the noxious odour…
Family Holiday Fantasies
Of course, being prone to family holiday fantasies, as per norm I hadn’t factored in a few fundamental realities…. The peace I’d craved couldn’t be mine, I’d forgotten how annoying my kids can get in close proximity unless regularly exercised, which given the driving rain has been a challenge to deliver upon…. but we have largely managed/had to.
Motorway Walks
This holiday’s best being, a mad long, heavily intoxicating walk beside the A814 motorway through Glasgow on our way to the Transport Museum, mistakenly believing it would be a short leisurely stroll down by the riverside…The kids slept well after that one…And sadly, prolonged external exposure has been limited by cheap clothing….. heavy rain penetrates after an hour! Further complicated by having no drying facility in our magnificent holiday abode…..apart from in front of the fire….so the living room resembled a Chinese laundry! All in all, = Nowhere to sit, cogitate & or write…..
Nostalgia Trip to Davaar Island
Another excursion worthy of note, walking the tidal, rocky, stony spit to Davaar Island in gale force winds & rain. It was a memory hack for a journey I did with my Father around 20 years ago. He dragged me there to see a cave painting of Jesus an ancestor apparently ‘touched up’…as in paint, we hope!
Inclement Torture
We got 3/4s of the way to the cave before the wet, slippery rocks became a death knell & hyper-mobile Laurie & I had to turn back. The tidal access, initially attractive for its element of risk, even had my husband a little spooked in the inclement conditions…. It caused sheer torture for poor Laurie…who spent the entire 2 hours in panic mode, constantly checking with me that the sea wasn’t coming back in to trap us!
Little Mountain Goat
On the way back Lani insisted on being allowed to try to climb ‘the mountain’ as we hadn’t made it to the cave! Out of guilt, I felt we had to let her do this?! But of course, I could afford to be generous, my buggered knee excludes me from indulging these crazy whims…but not my husband…. Lol, why is it so enjoyable watching your partner being tortured in this manner???
Silver Boots & Sainsbo Jacket
Though I immediately regretted pandering to my parental guilt when I lost sight of both within 5 minutes, for far too long. Thank fuck we’d just kitted her out with a new pair of sparkly silver wellies, and I force him to wear a bright orange anorak (which is uber cool but he thinks he looks like he’s a Sainsbury’s employee, so is less keen), I kid you not, those 2 bright items where the only things I could spot on that mountain in the driving rain & darkened sky.
Still Seeking Perfect Holiday
Our holiday is now at an end, we have over 600 miles to drive to get home but on the plus side we didn’t visit A&E for once!!!!…Or have I spoken too soon?????
I’m not sure what a perfect holiday looks like to me anymore, I’m certainly tangled in who needs to be there apart from me…. Similarly, self-catering hell or not…? I hate cooking at the best of times, I am entirely self-taught with no desire for the detail required for successful recipes.
However, we’re cursed to be a gluten free family, out of medical necessity not fashion! This makes food sourcing & production a ball-ache from Hades, which cannot be remedied by hotel living, unless it’s a very expensive do…. thus, not in my price bracket!
Scotland We Love You
We certainly all LOVE Scotland, all the fresh air, spaces to run in, mountains & castles to climb and beaches to comb…. It can’t be beaten for beautiful, dramatic scenery, even the rural sheep are as white as snow! The only shame is the food, which though plentiful still tends towards beige & unhealthy…. but is it improving slowly. #maccheeseandchipsanyone
