I'm writing this in my front room, my new HQ, my home office. I've spent more time here in the last three weeks than the five years I've lived here. I'm listening to the lovely Chants d'Auvergne by Canteloube featuring Kiri Te Kanawa, whose voice is angelic and deep all at once. She is one of Dad's favourites. Ooh. Writing that just made tears.
Has a little cry. I sometimes cry when I listen to lovely classical music because it reminds me of Mum and Dad, and my yoof. Here's the album. I got that image while I was having a weep. Now my nose is blocked but I'm still typing.
I woke up before 8am today. Got up. Had a quick breakfast of peanut butter on toast and coffee. Returned to my warm bed in time for the family call. Returning to my warm bed is one of my very favourite things, and certainly standard for a usual Saturday so why stop now?
The family was on good form today. We're one of the ones that likes laughing together, and at each other, and with each other about the world. The highlight, perhaps of all family calls ever, happened today, when my sister taught Mum the meaning of a word. This has not happened once in all her 50 years, so it was marvellous. And remarkable. My brother offered her a virtual pumpkin trophy across the waves.
You can't quite see Mum there. That's because my parents cannot get both of themselves in the frame at once. My sister was very proud. Everyone was. Mum was miffed, but also proud.
Oh, and the word? CREPUSCULAR.
Sis was sitting outside having a ciggie, and the sky was crepuscular. Crepuscular. A bit like it is approaching right now, as I sit here in my front room, typing the typing on the other side of the world.
Has a little cry. I sometimes cry when I listen to lovely classical music because it reminds me of Mum and Dad, and my yoof. Here's the album. I got that image while I was having a weep. Now my nose is blocked but I'm still typing.
I woke up before 8am today. Got up. Had a quick breakfast of peanut butter on toast and coffee. Returned to my warm bed in time for the family call. Returning to my warm bed is one of my very favourite things, and certainly standard for a usual Saturday so why stop now?
The family was on good form today. We're one of the ones that likes laughing together, and at each other, and with each other about the world. The highlight, perhaps of all family calls ever, happened today, when my sister taught Mum the meaning of a word. This has not happened once in all her 50 years, so it was marvellous. And remarkable. My brother offered her a virtual pumpkin trophy across the waves.
 |
| Sis wins her pumpkin |
You can't quite see Mum there. That's because my parents cannot get both of themselves in the frame at once. My sister was very proud. Everyone was. Mum was miffed, but also proud.
Oh, and the word? CREPUSCULAR.
crepuscular
/krɪˈpʌskjʊlə,krɛˈpʌskjʊlə/
adjective
- resembling or relating to twilight.
- ZOOLOGY(of an animal) appearing or active in twilight.
Sis was sitting outside having a ciggie, and the sky was crepuscular. Crepuscular. A bit like it is approaching right now, as I sit here in my front room, typing the typing on the other side of the world.
Today was otherwise quite bland. But, I did make some nice food. Actually I did quite a bit. I made some fucking delicious little breakfast things with my too-much ricotta, and I made my first pickle, of the kohlrabi that's languished in my crisper. I also watched a talk about Untitled Goose Game, listened to quite a bit of Bryson's The Body, and read a bit of
Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me by Kate Clanchy for work. I also organised pickup of some Boxes after getting stiffed by Hermès online yesterday. Fuckers charged me three times for a delivery they said didn't work in the end. Try calling a courier company during a global pandemic. It's a nightmare. Oh, well.
Here's the food:
That's the thing. I actually got a fair bit done. I wonder if it's because it's in my house that I don't feel like it was a busy day. I have friends who are performing all sorts of domestic magic - most of whom are high achievers of a fine order in not-domestic life, which I find interesting and impressive. I've just got to 'perhaps it's time I made hummus'.
I think something interesting will come of the fact that we're all watching each other and being seen in domestic space. Domesticity is being witnessed. Its constraint is also encouraging clowning and productivity and madness and loneliness, but that's another story. I wonder if there's actual understanding of the domestic space being learned by, yes, men, who are mostly looked after by their female partners, in straight couples. I had to laugh when a few friends were exasperated by their male partners' frankly pathetic attempts to prepare and stockpile. And, it's been interesting to hear about how work and not-work lines are being drawn in the home. I wish all my woman friends strength as they negotiate the New Work lines in the hope of a new configuration. And yes, absolutely, there are Good Men in the world. But for those who forget that being a parent means taking care of the children or that being a great partner means looking after her and your house too, now's your time to shine. Something to keep an eye on.
And of course with fears and dread rising about domestic abuse while we're all locked down. Fuck.
PS - My tears have stopped. They stopped when I was explaining crepuscular.
My favourite thing on the internet today was not, in fact on the internet. It was being on my couch with the blasting afternoon sun on me. Tomorrow is going to be 20' so I naughtily saved my one hour today for tomorrow even though I know it doesn't work like that but stuff it.
Here's the food:
That's the thing. I actually got a fair bit done. I wonder if it's because it's in my house that I don't feel like it was a busy day. I have friends who are performing all sorts of domestic magic - most of whom are high achievers of a fine order in not-domestic life, which I find interesting and impressive. I've just got to 'perhaps it's time I made hummus'.
I think something interesting will come of the fact that we're all watching each other and being seen in domestic space. Domesticity is being witnessed. Its constraint is also encouraging clowning and productivity and madness and loneliness, but that's another story. I wonder if there's actual understanding of the domestic space being learned by, yes, men, who are mostly looked after by their female partners, in straight couples. I had to laugh when a few friends were exasperated by their male partners' frankly pathetic attempts to prepare and stockpile. And, it's been interesting to hear about how work and not-work lines are being drawn in the home. I wish all my woman friends strength as they negotiate the New Work lines in the hope of a new configuration. And yes, absolutely, there are Good Men in the world. But for those who forget that being a parent means taking care of the children or that being a great partner means looking after her and your house too, now's your time to shine. Something to keep an eye on.
And of course with fears and dread rising about domestic abuse while we're all locked down. Fuck.
PS - My tears have stopped. They stopped when I was explaining crepuscular.
My favourite thing on the internet today was not, in fact on the internet. It was being on my couch with the blasting afternoon sun on me. Tomorrow is going to be 20' so I naughtily saved my one hour today for tomorrow even though I know it doesn't work like that but stuff it.