A Bit Weird And Wonderful

10th December 2012 Monday

Hard to type with splits at the ends of my fingers - such tiny cuts, so sore.....it’s my dry, dry skin protesting the cold weather and my hands always in water....

My husband doesn’t come to our yoga class this morning - we thought it would be something to do together, with friends. He doesn’t enjoy it - he wants to get it right but the poses hurt  his body.....I find I can let it go - my disapointment....

While I bend and stretch and salute the sun, our sweet decorator paints the downstairs cloakroom -  a soft, pale greeny-blue like the shimmering inside of a paua shell from New Zealand...

I  stab holes in the Christmas cake with a knitting needle - and dribble it with brandy  - I’m sure I’ve overcooked it again.........no way of knowing till it’s too late and we cut it on the day....

I fill four fat glass bottles with the speckly mincemeat I made on Saturday and slosh in more brandy and orange juice as it looks like it needs it...

I don’t even like brandy....

The date for posting Christmas cards overseas has been and gone. I feel at a loss about how to write about this year to our friends and family  - how to put it in a few sentences  - how shock and grief and disbelief transmute into practising acceptance, giving up resistance and guilt and finding out what a budget really means.....with no idea where to start.......

And with the person I love becoming a bit weird and wonderful at the same time...