#atinylife Open Viewings

Yet again I have confirmed my status as a bit of an oddball.

This time it’s the over our house, which you will know is currently on the market unless you have been hiding under a rock or muted me online until today.

We’re supposed to hate house viewings, right? All that tidying so that complete strangers can come and examine our property and ask awkward questions about the neighbours. open viewing

Well, I love them. The house has never looked so good. We have a total system (and a list, of course!) for the tidying. And I adore taking folk over the house – I’d forgotten I can be charming, or at least friendly – showing them all the great things we put into it to make it home.

It feels like saying, over and over, ‘this is our house. Isn’t it lovely?’

#atinylife privilege

As a woman with mental health issues, and the parent of an enby kid, I’m often aware of other people’s male-cis-het-ableist privilege.

Today, however, I have the most privilege I’ve ever felt in my life.

  • I am in an air bnb (financially secure enough for this, and multiple trips to Tesco for cashews and vegan chocolate)
  • for two nights (not in a nine-five with four weeks of holiday a year)
  • my children being looked after by their dad (co-parenting: surely the ultimate privilege?)
  • writing (able to pursue this un-lucrative work for many years now)
  • listening to music and podcasts (having decided I can afford Spotify: currently on free trial)
  • and reading (only one was free from the library).

This is heaven.privilege

This. An accident of birth, and race,  cisgendered heterosexual marriage, and secure family that led me to this point.

#atinylife Autumn Song

Autumn SongAutumn: I wake before the sun rises.

Warm myself on a cup of tea,

the feeling of my hands across the keyboard,

the central heating’s clicks and taps.

The sun’s light pierces clouds ruffled

on the horizon,

reminding me it’s still here

even at this turn of the year.

Rising into the sky, all blue and white

and blue and white

and falling leaves. Rain comes on

from nowhere, and I shut the window tight,

watch the leaves, pushed off

by the wind to fall with the raindrops,

to end up slicked, shining on the concrete.

By teatime, the sun is gone again.

Pink clouds wrestle with the oranges,

the yellows, the browns of the trees.

Red berries are picked out

in the evening light. Drops rest on the branches,

 

the rooks fly over like factory workers, heading for home.

 

#atinylife busy again

Oh it must be Spring. I’m busy!

I like to be busy, but not as much as the average … person? Person in the UK? Person of my generation? ‘Busy’ doesn’t take long to develop into ‘stressed,’ and ‘stressed’ has developed into psychosis – only twice, and a long time ago now, but… I don’t have the option to push myself like other people.

Busy Bee

What has been particularly wonderful about this year, as opposed to other Springs, when I was busy with the kids, or busy with work, or busy writing things no one was interested in, is that this year I’m busy with paid, creative work. Sometimes. Other paid work has to fit around the writing, not the other way round.

Meanwhile, the children have to fit around creativity AND paid work, and are no doubt feeling very hard done by!

 

 

#atinylife Boogie

I spent some years of my adulthood listening to Radio 4.

This did not last long.

We bounced around for a while, but I’ve settled on Boogie in the Morning, on Forth One. This is why:

  • Arlene is not marketed as a travel news bimbo. She’s givenBoogie an equal amount of airtime,
  • Boogie is polite to her and doesn’t treat her as ‘less than’ because she is a woman,
  • the quiz happens before we have to leave for school,
  • I used to listen in the basement of the City Chambers in Edinburgh. Now I listen in my kitchen in the East Lothian Countryside,
  • they actually go on a booze cruise with their biggest fans every year,
  • there is a cute kid telling a joke every day,
  • the banter is pure quality, and
  • if it’s a snow day, they let us know!

 

Cheryl Smith: #atinylife Sleep

I slept till after nine this morning, and I don’t mean dozing, or lazing, or duvet diving. I mean sleeping.

This is the kind of sleep that drags you downwards into bliss, the sleep that triumphs over daybreak, obliterating awareness of the light. Plans made before bedtime are voided and cheerful greetings of the new day are postponed, sometimes indefinitely.

And I love it. I have always loved it. Throughout the teenage years, I especially loved it. During the child-rearing years, I longed for it with the yearning of the abandoned, in despair of ever again having and holding. Then the alarm-clock years, when weekend visitation rights were reinstated and hope was restored.

Now it’s back, fully pledged to me at last, bringing the precious gift of guilt-free slumber into the depth of winter mornings. Welcome home, my lifelong love.

 

Sleep

 

#atinylife car scraper

Scraping the car in the morning, I was reminded of how much it reminds me of sitting in the freezing cold watching my Dad do the same thing.

car scraperHow pleasing it was to watch him methodically remove the sugary coating from the windows so we could see out again, the fan blowing so loud we couldn’t hear ourselves think.

Now I have to sort my own car out.

But: I have a car.

I live somewhere with crisp frosty mornings, beautiful clear skies.

I got a new scraper the other day and it’s a good one.

I have my fans going full blast so when I’m ready to drive the car won’t be as cold.

I have excellent, thick waterproof gloves.

And unlike my youngest, I can reach the middle of the windscreen.

 

Just a tinylife job that brings joy!