Hoorah it’s the morning. The wind and I are now lovers having spent the night coiled in each other’s moans and groans! It was cold here in the wee hours. I cwtched down under 3 quilts with bed socks and thick pyjama’s but still I couldn’t stop shivering. I think it’s because I always have the heating on at home.
When we were growing up on the estate we couldn’t afford luxuries like central heating. The council had put in a sort of air blowing heating in the walls but we couldn’t have it on all the time because it cost ‘an arm and a leg’ so we had to put more jumpers on. We would sit huddled us girls, close to the vent at the base of the wall by the front room door, giggling and me making light of the cold. I don’t know if I was a funny child or if my family just found me funny, but it wasn’t hard to make them laugh. We had so much love and respect for each other in that house that we didn’t need inconsequential things like a heating system that worked!
But I did promise myself back then, as a small child and as a grumpy teenager, that when I grew up I would never be cold again. Consequently I have ridiculous heating bills and when I think about it, my carbon footprint must be considerably bigger than it should be.
In the cold here last night, at first I curled like I would have as a child, into my quilts, negative and reminiscent, and as I remembered, I embraced the cold and thanked it for reminding me that I am alive. Every time I woke up, I thought, ‘I am by the sea and tomorrow I can do whatever I like.’ This thought chanted into the darkness and threw a smile across myself keeping me warm as I drifted back into slumber. Needless to say, as I sit on the bed here now gazing out to sea, I have the calor gas heater back on!
Went downstairs to feed Fudge who was coiled and asleep, but there are traces of cat fur on my over sized journal so I reckon she’s been having a read in the night! I couldn’t resist doing a bit of painting and it seems that cats love to join in! Trying to drink the paint water even though they have a whole bowl of their own water, trying to sit on the painting, pawing the paint brush following its dance across the cotton re-cycled paper ... so cute, what a wonderful companion Fudge is, and to be honest, she just seems to look after herself. When I got her food out she purred and mewed in the most delightful of ways brushing herself against my legs as I were the Feline Queen. Looks like I have found the way to her heart and my own xxx
I have this growing feeling ‘ How can I get this feeling of completeness into my life every day. How can I make every day feel like this’
Day 2 Evening
Well, what an AMAZING day that was. It’s a real eye opener how many wonderful and varied things we humans get up to when there’s no internet, TV or mobile coverage!
First thing, make a fuss of Fudge then ... painting! I have never painted for fun in my entire life!
Off down to the shops to get some early morning tucker, when I found myself side tracked to the beach. It was a awash with literally millions of crushed and broken shells. No doubt from the shell fish factory round the corner. For years I have kid myself that dolphins come here because it is a magical place, but I reckon it could be for the meal ticket fishy waste excreted into the sea.
And as I stood in the blustering wind, my scarf dancing as if attached by invisible strings to the puppeteer’s fingers, my cheeks ruddy from the cold, my heart beating as if it had just remembered to do so, I saw the shell massacre in a new and sun kissed light. They were not shells at all, they were mermaid scales! Whipping up storms so strong that sailors weep for lost friends at sea, the ragged rocks and wilful waves must take their toll on pearlesque, scales laid in lines of jewel like armour ...
The broken scallop shells had been worn by the tears of the sea, into the shape of mermaid scales! That was it, the hunt was on! I scurried off into town and bout some hessian bags, swag bags soon to be filled with treasures, but once again, I was side tracked, this time by a sign struggling to stay straight in the worrisome weather.