Authorlouisa

3BT – (rain), rainforest/smell, together/grunter, crocosmia/

0. The coolness washes over us as the rain takes the heat out of the night.

1. Underneath the tall, spindly trees, the heavy leaves trap clouds of moisture – you can see the steam circling from the house. It’s exactly this weather condition that causes people to say our gardens are like the rainforest.

1b. We find the source of the bad smell and eliminate it.

2. We sit on the footstool together – me and John and Lily and Strange.

2b. Soaked in the rainstorm then fresh from the shower, Lily wriggles and grunts on John’s pillow.

3. The windows frame the blood red crocosmia.

3b. Like with my Wayne’s World cap earlier in the week, I sporadically wear my Hello Kitten penguin mask during the evening.

3BT – raku/bowls/thorn/curls/look inside, summertime, sleepy

1. The magical moment when the colours appear.

1b. I’ve been worried about how to glaze my bowls but it turns out my hand is forced: I glaze the insides and leave the outsides to the reduction, aside from a few accidental/deliberate spatters for interest. I love how they turn out.

1c. There is a thorn in my heel as I walk back from the bakery – each step is agony. Afterwards, after I remove it, there is a pleasant echo of the pain whenever I put my weight on it – pleasant because it’s a relief that’s all there is.

1d. I turn the bowls to make curves and feet. The clay peels off in curls.

1e. My favourite Minoan bull cracks before I get any good photos of it but, like with the cracked bird feeder, it’s fantastic to be able to look inside: to see how far the carbon penetrates the clay body.

2. ‘Summertime’ (not the Gershwin one) is on the radio. It hasn’t dated as much as I would have thought for a song from a) 1991, b) by people called DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. (The song has aged better than their names, that’s for sure.)

3. My pillow is a wonderful place. Why did I not visit it sooner?

Misc thoughts and observations of a nearly 35 year old

HCRH_milepost_35 (1) 
It’s my birthday at the weekend, my 35th.

For some reason, much more so than my 30th, this seems like a turning point, a milestone. The year I turned 30 was a momentous, grown-up year – we were stuck in mortgage-application hell trying to buy our house, my first business idea was failing while John’s shiny new one was booming, we lost Sili (the first of our cats to go, snatched from us prematurely by cancer) and around us, nearly all of our couple friends were expelling small humans from their loins. But still… even with all that going on, I didn’t feel much different in myself to how I’d felt five, maybe even ten years earlier. This year though…

Ain’t nothing but a number

For the first time, I feel old.

I remember my mum and dad being around this age – they were adults with two kids and a mortgage with 1980’s interest rates, not an immature, whimsical narcissist who has time to write an ambling treatise on ageing on a Thursday afternoon but still, I remember them at the age I am now.

When we got our new pride of cats last year, we realised that if they live to the same age as the last ones, they’ll be with us until we’re pushing 50. Fifty!

In my teens, I watched films featuring characters in their twenties – I was ten years younger than them then; I’m ten years older now but they haven’t aged a day. Fuckers.

Decades and fractions of centuries

I’m starting to measure the time since events in multiple decades. I remember at 25/26 thinking “cor, it’s a DECADE since I left school, a DECADE since I started going out to clubs, a DECADE since I met my teenage buddies”. Well you know what, past-Louisa, it’s nearly TWO DECADES since that sort of thing now. (Of course, these are just arbitrary things I’ve picked out to illustrate my point but I’ve picked them for a reason: I could say it’s more than three decades since I had a swan on my coat peg at nursery, but who cares, I was a little child then but all of the things I’ve mentioned above, happened when I was bordering on adulthood, when I was already some version of “me”.)

High school left such a (largely negative) imprint on my brain that I still dream about it – I had a dream about being in a maths class there just last night – but it’s been FOUR times as long since I left as I actually spent there. It’s been a fifth of a century since I left school. A fifth of a CENTURY.

My relationship with John isn’t quite in multiple decades or meaningful fractions of centuries yet – we’ve been together about 12 years – but I first met him in early 1998 when I was 18. Towards the end of 2015, he’ll have been in my life for longer than he hasn’t been – and I’ve already crossed that barrier with some of the teenage buddies mentioned above.

And of course, projecting forwards, I’m likely to live (at least) another 35 years – I probably haven’t crossed that halfway line yet but at some point in the not too distant future I will.
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3BT – OTT/callbacks/darlings, magnums, that’s us

1. I make myself laugh with some ridiculous hyperbole.

1b. Satisfying callbacks make a piece hang together better than it should.

1c. I “kill my darlings”. The resulting post is much cleaner and coherent as a result – and I can save the jokes for another time.

2. We don’t usually have magnums at home – they’re a “at the theatre only” thing – so these are a delicious, special treat.

3. Their ears stand up as he calls their names. I release them and they run down the stairs side by side.

3BT – jingles, decadence, shy dogs/sticky/fresher

1. We compose jingles for the things we see.

2. I make this observation to John and he laughs.

3. We meet two shy dogs in quick succession – the collie sticks to the undergrowth to protect her stick while the afghan waits until we step out of the way, then zooms down the path to catch up with his mum, his long locks flowing as he runs.

3b. The woods are humid and I’m very sticky – then a welcome rain shower starts. (The leaf canopy protects me from most of it, so I end up pleasantly cooled rather than soaked.)

3c. I lie on the living room floor. A breeze drifts in from the door, from the window. The air slowly becomes fresher.

3BT – overlap, roots/spotted/pick up, Louisa’s Hat, oh.. hi?

1. So many of the early interactions between the dog and cats were fraught with confusion – a wagging tail means one thing to one and the opposite to the others – but thankfully they quickly learnt there is overlap between Lily-dog’s desire to sniff the cats when they come and their desire to rub their scents on her.

2. The biggest dandelion tap roots I’ve ever seen – it’s beautiful that they’re out of the ground and hopefully won’t steal any more nutrients from my blueberry bush.

2b. The little girl and Lily see each other at the same time. Lily watches the girl play with the ball then I hear the girl run into the house and tell her grandma that there is a pretty doggy outside.

2c. It’s ever so cute when John comes to meet me at the allotment: today it’s on his way home from the office and he brings us ice lollies. He takes Lily for a run in the park while I clear up then we walk home together.

waynes-world-hat

3. John has bought me some presents – well, the main two are to share (a bluray player and the three seasons of Game of Thrones boxset) but the third one is all mine. (It’s perfect because it’s nerdy but also something we joked about in passing a few weeks ago.)

4. Strange has a habit of cutting across into the dining room without saying hello but if we call to her, she comes back into the living room as the friendliest cat in the world.