This crafting business feels a bit like learning to drive. Intermittent brief periods when I feel like I actually know what I'm doing, interspersed with long sessions where all I do is kangaroo hop, lurching from one project to the next, before grinding to a halt, getting nowhere. And if fit is the opposite of start, then I am having a protracted fit. I am not doing anything. I was going to tell you about the growing list of projects that are waiting for me, but that's a bit depressing. And I'm not sure I have anything better to tell you in its place.
I am busy. I took a week off work and flew to England for my niece's first communion, which was just lovely, and then went home for a few days to my parents' house. The first time in three years. I have seen my parents lots in the interim, but always somewhere else. And the few days passed by in a blur of shopping. Not idle shopping with lots of coffee breaks in between, but focussed shopping that felt a bit like work. I went to only three shops. And spent HOURS in each. I met a very nice woman called Sharon who helped me figure out how to use the Ikea kitchen planner. Sharon had an ikea kitchen, but she told me her husband got custody in the divorce. I spent what felt like days in John Lewis. I am clearly getting old, because I wouldn't have been seen dead in John Lewis two decades ago and now would basically be happy if I never shopped anywhere else in my life. Well, almost... I bought mattresses and a dish washer and a cooker. All at good reductions.
None of this means that the little old lady house is actually mine yet. Oh no. The bank is still faffing around ticking boxes. And lest you think I've completely lost the plot, all the kitchen planning is still notional, and John Lewis, being John Lewis, have a no quibble return policy and will keep all my purchases for months before delivery for free, allowing me to take advantage of their sale prices at no risk. (You see... amazing!) And now I am back. And I am knackered. A week off work and lots to show for it, but I can't help but feel a bit cheated.
Anyway, there is one good thing which I am secretly very pleased about. I am writing again. Not blogging (clearly). But writing - short stories. Or at least a short story. And that makes me happy. Even if it's not very photogenic.
(My niece painted this picture on the Big Day, and I can't resist sharing it with you.)