Right, off we go again. I finally have internet at home - Yay!
My three thinks for today are:
WHAM - Not the band. Not the Roy Lichtenstein either. The moment. The one where a wall just hits you out of nowhere and everything just crashes down around you. I've hit a few of these in my life. Usually, I go through certain phases in order to cope with the disaster. First off I find myself to be numb for a few days as the reality of what happened slowly seeps in. Then follows a week of solitude, where I sit. And think. But mostly sit.
After this, I usually seek solace from a friend or two. I cry, they cry, but nothing productive comes from it. About two weeks after the incident I will most likely go through my Angry Phase. This could go on for weeks, even months. Somewhere during my time as Madame Moody, I will start to pick up the pieces again (more out of annoyance than self-motivation). Once the picture starts to clear again, I will be able to move on and see the bright side to whatever happened.
Not this time, though. This time was different. Let me count the ways. To begin with, I saw this coming. There were warning signs all over (of varying intensity). Two days before I even said that I suspected something was up. When the wall finally hit, I was actually relieved that it wasn't something else. It was still ridiculous and completely unfair, but I was prepared. As I drove home that afternoon, I literally laughed all the way. The next day, I got up and DID SOMETHING ABOUT IT. I immediately started to fight back. My husband, my friends and my family are all behind me, and that goes a long way. For the first time in my life, the wall didn't break me. It passed right through me - unpleasant, but not fatal. By grace, I do not have to pick up the pieces of my life all over again - because I never dropped them in the first place.
Gardening - Who knew I'd enjoy this? I have never planted anything, so when my husband suggested redoing our garden, I laughed like he was making a joke and returned to watching the rerun of Two and a Half Men. Realising he was serious, I reluctantly followed him out into the garden and made knowing nods whenever he said something like "compost" or "seasonal growth". The next day, I found myself in a nursery, looking at pebbles and water features and bored koi fish. Somewhere between the lavender and the aloe, I suddenly began enjoying myself. This was fun! We planned (i.e. argued) out the garden and set to work. I was kitted out in gloves and a shovel, and off I went. We dug, we pulled, we watered and we weeded - until we were left with an oddly empty-looking back yard. It took us two days and all we had to show for it were a few tiny trees and a baby lavender bush. Just as I was about to get dismayed, though, I remembered that they would all g-r-o-w. Revelation. I'm proud of our little misshapen garden and I can't wait for it to blossom into its' full chaotic splendor. I found a new hobby, seems like.
African Thunderstorms - I started writing this post bathing in sunshine. The day was clear and stunning. Halfway through, the house turned dark, the birds stopped singing and I could hear the wind sprinting in through the canyon, down the field and toward our tiny helpless home. Thunder clapped, my cat screamed, the garage door flew open, my washing picked up and left for the house next door and our dustbin came rolling by me all nonchalant. I ran from one point to the other, closing windows and trying to coax the stupid cat to let go of my leg. Now, ten minutes later, I'm completely drenched, everything has either fallen over or left the house and the storm has passed. There's nothing like sudden chaos to get you going. African Thunderstorms. Man, I love them.
To end off, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been sticking by me the last two weeks. Here's to you.
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