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Underneath the radar

I am a bit wiped as I write this, but something prompted me to get some stuff down. In print as it were.

It’s the beginning of a new decade but I’m not feeling very “beginning-y”. More middling. Or just bleurgghhh. It’s because of the holidays.

Holidays with family are epic and fun and adventure-filled much of the time. And they have been jam packed this year for sure. I have turbo-powered twin 8 year old boys and they go at it hammer and tongs. And let’s face it, I’m no Ophelia. More Lady Macbeth without the blood lust. So I can handle them. But.....

I crave solitude. And ritual. And magic. I dream of long days reading books, eating soup and drinking tea. Days when I sit nestled into the roots of my favourite oak tree and watch the grass grow.

I’m a right old hippy/boho sort, but with a bit of an M&S wrapping to me. But I yearn to be wild and see faeries and sing folk songs of time gone by.

What’s my point? Well I don’t have one this time. I could share something wise with you. Offer you a tasty little life affirming nugget. But maybe not today. All I wish for you is some time to do absolutely nothing. With no-one. That’s it.

So if you feel the same way, I’m right there with you. Actually, probably not, because I’ll be near some trees somewhere. On my own. casting spells. Or some such.

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