Wednesday, 29 August 2012

On a more colourful note

I found this blog Plenty of Colour a little while ago and it's an absolute joy.

I have loved bright colours for a long time, but have often been a little afraid of using/wearing them.

So what better than a beautiful website designed to celebrate colour, organised by palette as well as by use?

I've gradually got braver in terms of the colours I use in my house and those that I wear, and am looking forward to having a very cheerful colourful new house. I've loved exploring Plenty of Colour, with a thirst for inspiration and a real sense of appreciation.

Here is one of my favourite finds from the blog. It's an installation created from coloured sewing thread, by Mexican artist Gabriel Dawe. When I first saw these I thought they were constructed from light or laser beams, but no.... stunning and very uplifting.

Out of control

Moving day is getting closer, many many things on the house list are getting done, but it's an unbelievably expensive time and there is a high level of panic going on.

I've spent most of the last week feeling thoroughly under the weather, having had two colds on the bounce, but have had to keep going because of the volume of stuff that needs to be done. People helpfully tell me to rest (bluntly in some cases), and to find time for myself, and I know they mean well but at the moment it's like a red rag to a bull.

In a way all I am doing is spending time on myself. I have a finite deadline, the classic cliche of an immovable feast, and apart from a lot of practical help from my parents, I really am on my own getting everything done. There is no other option. I can ease up once I've moved and once Fresher's Week is out of the way, but until then there is not much choice. Moving from one end of the country, from a huge house to a small house, does not just happen.

I've just taken 2 sick days from work. I have felt so ill that I have had to give in. I have tried to shut myself off from stressing about everything and sleep when I've needed to but my head is pounding so it's been difficult. It's scary being ill and managing my asthma and trying not to panic as it makes it worse. I drove my car across the road today to leave my drive free for the floor fitters, and felt very unsafe. Because I have handed my notice in at work, I am no longer entitled to sick pay. I frightened myself today by calculating that the money I have lost is equivalent to 3 months' food money. I am quite frugal on food for me and my pooches, plus I am not very tall, but even I can't exist on fresh air. That money will have to be found from somewhere.

Life is about to change in a huge way. It's completely what I've signed up for, but I am genuinely starting to panic. I'm completely overwhelmed. I think I feel worse about everything because I am ill, and am hoping I feel better on many levels very soon. People close to me are and have been much more ill, and I do know I am lucky to be generally healthy, and I am grateful, I really am.

I have a lot of clearing out to do - several years worth of accumulated clutter from a couple of previous live-in relationships, plus a LOT of sheet music and a LOT of bank/debt-related paperwork. Lots of clothes I don't wear, although I have been gradually getting more brutal on this front.

Once I have packed the things I want to take with me, I am moving into a new house, where I know no-one, and I am starting again. No security of a day-to-day work routine. Other than getting up, going to bed, eating and taking my dogs out, everything else is unknown.

It's a tremendous opportunity to build a whole new life, but I am under no illusion how hard it's going to be, and at the moment I am feeling very alone. This really isn't a pity party, although I know it sounds like it. I am excited too but also very bogged down right now.

I've taken some comfort from the fantastic FlyLady - all concept of housework/home management went out of the window a while ago but I don't want this lack of control to carry on into my new house.

I have to dig my harp out tomorrow as I have a wedding on Saturday and I need to practice. I haven't played since the last wedding I did 3 weeks ago. I feel guilty about it but haven't been able to spare any time for practicing.

I feel better this evening than I have done for days, so I am optimistic that tomorrow I will be better still, and I can start making things happen again.

Friday, 17 August 2012

It started with a kick...

I was face down in the swimming pool, fighting for breath enough just managing to co-ordinate my arms and lungs before it came. Thump. A sharp kick, a man's hefty heel made contact with the outside of my right ankle. A glancing blow that caught half of the metalwork in my leg, and left me struggling to understand what just happened.

Physically what just happened was an unfortunate, unlucky blow to my leg, seemingly a regular occurrence on this particular swimming session. It briefly winded me. I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. I wanted to cry out because of the pain and the shock of it all, but my head was about to come out of the water which meant I needed to concentrate on breathing in. I wasn't far from the shallow end, and managed to get myself to the safety of the end of the pool while I pulled myself back together. Mental note to self, it's impossible to swim and cry at the same time.

Emotionally it was so much worse. Next Tuesday would have been my second wedding anniversary. A racing friend is off to fulfil a long held ambition of mine and race at the Manx GP this year. I am in the process of moving my entire life from one of a wage slave to one of a girl who follows her dreams. There is so much going on for me at the moment that until last night, I didn't dare contemplate the extent of it because, frankly, it was all a bit much.

Somehow I managed to keep swimming (see, there goes Dory again!). But in the car on the way home it was a different story and I couldn't hold it in. I rang a very dear friend when I got back to my house, and was grateful when she picked up.

I got home from work today and a running vest had arrived in the post, sent from the charity I am fundraising for. I was excited as my triathlon kit is frankly a bit substandard, and had expected it to be purple as this is the Lymphoma Association's main colour. The vest had purple flowers on, but was bright, lemon yellow. My ex fiance was obsessed with yellow and during our relationship, yellow had gradually taken over my house. I have tried to avoid it as a colour, not consciously because of any hatred towards him, but just because it was his choice not mine. I love sunny, neon, acid bright colours, just not yellow.

Time to reclaim yellow as a colour I think....