It’s not that I’ve never noticed the sound of electrical goods in our home before, but maybe I haven’t.
A faint whisper around the house. Reminding me that something, someone, somewhere is working hard.
The digital clock on the cooker tells me it’s ten pm when in fact it’s mid day, but for a second, I’m inclined to believe it. Smiling to myself about how on earth it could be ten pm when the sun is still suspended in the sky. I walk off, leaving it as I found it and another job moves ever closer to the “never going to sort that” pile.
Unsure as to whether time has slowed or sped up is a new found topic of conversation on the phone. I nearly tell someone, who works much harder than myself, that the weeks feel as if they’re flying by. Until I think better of it, worried to upset of offend whilst stuck in a time of high stress for some.
Never the less, communication with friends and family have risen. Speaking on the phone most days with nothing exciting to report until you realise the ordinary really is quite spectacular. The mundane and daily repetitions make us human, creatures of habit. We need them to survive just like every other life form and without them, we would cease to exist.
Human nature vs mother nature has never been so prominent. With so many signs showing that slowing down has already made a positive impact on the earth it’s hard to deny. Is the world telling us enough is enough. Finally fighting back on humanity’s constant assault? A peaceful coexistence with Mother Nature is surely what’s required, but these thoughts are large and perhaps I’ll ponder it some more over a cup of tea.
Grasping warm mugs, hugging them close to my chest and feeling the warmth penetrate my body has become a favourite past time. It’s in those moments I have some of my best thoughts and find questions I know I can’t answer. A blissful way to torment your brain at such an odd time.
Six pm enters and the nation are on tip toes, reaching for a glass to end the day. Listening to wine flowing from the bottle, making the initial ‘glug glug’ sound that I’ve fallen so deeply in love with over the past ten years. I watch it slowly flood the bottom of my glass, revealing a deep shade of red that I never noticed was quite such a beautiful colour.
Ceilings are stuck in a state of terracotta following plastering that never managed to get painted. When they bother me to the point of taking to the inanimate object I stand on my bottom step and touch them. So silky and smooth and in that moment, if they stayed terracotta forever, it wouldn’t bother me.
Walking around the house without slippers now gives me a feeling of unhappiness deep down in my stomach. It never did before but I now walk on these badly laminated floors so much I feel every dent and uneven patch even after hours of cleaning. Cold screed is on show where someone once thought it a good idea to save money and avoid underlay all together and cut the flooring around furniture for good measure.
When we get to play grownups and live and laugh within our very own walls all of the above is forgotten, if only for a little while.
I can now report I’ve reached the realisation that I do in fact only need one coffee mug because all of the rest are inadequate. Reaching around them carefully to find ‘the one’ without disturbing the balance when you discover it hasn’t managed to find it’s way back into the cupboard since this all started. A never ending cycle of washing, draining board and washing is destined for this hard working, perfectly imperfect holder of beverages.
Food shopping became a one man band a while ago now and a new trust has grown in relationships. You can look at a list a thousand times but something still won’t be coming home with you. Once the dedicated shopper walks through the door a quiz starts with “did you get the mayonnaise because I can’t see it?” begins. “They didn’t have any in stock” would be the sort of reply to expect but you know that’s bullshit. People aren’t panic buying mayo but now that going to the shop is something heroic but at the same time, almost frowned upon “Oh right.” will be your only response.
One of us to remember everything? Seems unlikely, but learning to bite your tongue when tea bags are garlic are left stranded at the shop, is helping you transform into an entirely new level of adult.
Biting your tongue more than ever when the empty loo roll remains on the holder. Dirty cereal bowls from mid day sustenance are stacked precariously even though you cleaned the kitchen this morning or they breathe in such an unhelpful manor.
There’s no escaping for a moan anymore. Thinking twice before you say something to each other because falling out at a time like this would be most inconvenient. Perhaps if you had a house large enough you could carry on letting what ever angers you come out of your mouth without much thought and then cool off in the east wing, but not when your confined in a small space. Storming past each other on the landing or walking through the living room without making eye contact feels awful at all times, but the word unbearable comes to mind if it were to happen now.
Navigating around the house with your partner, trying to dance to a new found rhythm that neither of you are sure of. Bodies intertwining on the sofa that we’ve now realised is not comfortable in the slightest, but they will do. After all, it was all we could afford when we moved in.
We’re talking more. Full delicious conversations I didn’t even realise we stopped having because the world was spinning so fast.
Side by side, scrolling. It used to annoy me if Dan got home from work and played on his phone instead of engaging with me but it doesn’t really bother me now. I’m just happy to have someone to sit next to, for little smiles and sideward glances.
Staying at home can help you notice moments of the day that may well otherwise pass you by and as it turns out,
simple is quite spectacular and the ordinary is far from from it.
Lots of love,