Cosy indoors; pinking shears a pinking, knitting needles a clinking and the old grey matter a thinking. Utter bliss. I savour the last remaining minutes. Five, four, three, two, one…
…”MUMMY!” The peace is shattered with that five-letter word. The boys and dogs come crashing through the door, demanding my instant attention. I feed and water them, whilst plotting how I can carve out some me-time.
Indoors; pinking shears a pinking, knitting needles a clinking and the old grey matter ticking over. Ten whole minutes later, I’m needed for some domestic emergency. I patiently put down what I’m doing and get way-laid for a couple of hours.
Pinking shears a chopping, knitting needles a clinking and the old grey matter a scheming. A really BIG, soporific roast dinner; that’s what I’ll do. That’ll give me at least an hour. Or maybe not…
…”MUMMY!” I remove the knitting needle from the cushion I have just stabbed. “The dog’s been sick.” I sigh and shove the knitting in the bag and get back to my other life, until the end of the day.
Working into the wee small hours I enjoy the reassuring rhythm of the knitting and the repetitive nature of cutting strips of fabric. I work through the tiredness and relish being in the zone, totally absorbed in what I’m doing. Then I realise as I come out of my knitting meditation, what has really been going on. I sift through my ever-growing pile of paper-work and find my salvation – a watercolour painting class. I make a mental note to book a place at the local adult education centre. Not for career progression, not because I “should”, just because. To get away from my responsible self and immerse myself in creativity and self-expression.
Just because.
Kat
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