Grow

And there will be other things. The map wearing out at the creases. The summer dying a quiet death, having had a quiet wet life. We are here. Still here, listening to Patti Smith who entirely miraculously comes to grace our tiny gig venue in our diminutive town next Saturday. And yes, we have tickets. We feel autumn's chill and complain, but autumn is my soul's home and my 50th year on this planet is approaching its end and all I can be is grateful grateful very grateful for 50. I am helped in so many ways by my fellow travellers, and lurch back and forth in my growing, but grow I do.

Who

Yup, the mundanity of existence, the wonderful terrible mundanity of tables and chairs, buses and trains, beds, baths, ovens, cats, pavements, postmen, shopping trolleys, gas bills. And this this this sense of curtains being slowly opened, slowly slowly, to let in the light and to reveal a whole world out there. This sense of waking up from a dream - a long long dream - still sleepy, still confused about which is the dream and which reality...

And one of the things that is woken up to is the possibility, the inevitability, the exigency even of loving myself the way I want to be loved. That this and only this will do. The dream of someone finally loving me completely, unconditionally, seamlessly, with consummate understanding, patience, skill, appreciation. Get it? Do you get it now? It's your job - it's you that's been appointed. Everyone else failed at the interview stage or certainly after the probation period. Only you stayed on, only you stuck it out, only you finally got the hang of the job, understood the requirements of the JD, and began to, as they say, deliver... And do you see now how peerlessly well-qualified you are for this position? No-one else knows you the way you do. No-one else has been here every step of the goddam journey, every faltering footstep, every impetuous leap, every shuffle in the dark. Been with you, seen it all, survived the blows, forgiven the eye-watering mistakes, accepted it all and still stayed on for more. Stayed on finally to start work on the real task of being your own unshakeable champion, undaunted supporter, generous appreciater, number one looker after, kindest companion, oldest lover, fondest friend, sweetest soulmate. Who else could possibly do it?

Knitted

For rr - knitted vegetables, a knitted bee skep, a knitted woman of leaves, knitted flowers at the Bankfield Museum in Halifax. (Photographs taken with my mobile phone so small and poor quality.)

Home

Sweet peas in a vase on the table, calla lily, orchid, basil, coriander in pots on the windowsill. Outside a jackdaw on the post office chimney, the bus rattling past. A book about insects, a book about bees, and L's knitting on the table, two diaries, a pair of binoculars, a phone. The bath water suddenly released and slooshing down the drain outside the open back door. I'm back from two days with my mother and trying to get grounded, and reconnect with home. Now I shall go and cook pasta with bacon, vegetables and cheese sauce, the ultimate comfort food.