Sunday, 8 April 2018

While my guitar gently weeps

I give thanks for thinking of what I'm missing that would shift my dreary mood. Alcohol, you might be thinking...or chocolate...or sex? Haha, no, something far less possible than even any of those! What would do the trick would be to write some music on my guitar...or go on a ten mile hilly hike. And in a way it helped, you know, to realise there's nothing to be done... I've always been a fan of must try harder, I must learn to be better at just give up!

I give thanks for a promising pink sunset yesterday evening.  For the weather not being as sunny as some weather forecast I'd read as my joints were too sore to go out anyway. For waking aching in the dawn and remembering to resist the urge to open the curtains and watch the sky grow light as the seal has gone on my double glazing and my view is through water now and just makes me fret about one more thing needing fixing.

I give thanks for playing with patchwork pieces as much as my arm would allow, a long bubbly bath with a book, and a late tasty lunch with some Scandi noir catch up.

Tomorrow I'm going to view a tiny flat. Reasonable location, near a bus stop with a shelter and heaters on the walls that you don't have to drag around on trailing extension leads. These are my kinds of luxury, but I suspect the place might be too small to keep myself in a manner which I could bear to become accustomed. I give thanks I can accept all kinds of things that can improve one's perception of quality of life are out of the question...spare room, some outside space and so on, but this looks as if even a small table and chairs might be problematic if you want a sofa in the living area too. Then there's books, and sewing things and medical supplies. And I'm not ready to give up owning a guitar, even if I can't play it! We shall see...and I give thanks for being open to looking.

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