A Weekend in Early December

I’ve loved using this space I have to write more deeply these past few months. To change the balance between words and pictures on here and have more to say. I’ve particularly had more to say during this time for the reasons many of us will have more to say during times in our lives when we are ill or things generally are not going so well. From late July onwards things did not go well for me and I found myself, to my own relief and slight surprise, trying to write my way through my own doubts, illness, depression and unhappiness. It’s turned out I had a lot to say.

Now, come this weekend in early December, things are much better. Through the love and help of friends, the passing of time and perhaps the writing, my life is in a better place. So I’ve decided to write from this better place. For myself as much as for you who might read this. So I will remember, the next time depression darkens my door, that happiness, sometime soon, can always be a tangible possibility.

Saturday

After a run of bright cold days when I’ve walked for miles while working and generally wandering, Saturday arrives warmer but vaguely damp. I go out walking anyway, for bread and music and to see what’s what. On Greenbank Road, just off Smithdown, Sarah’s told me she thinks Carole’s new cafe has opened. It has, ‘the third cafe’ she’s called it. And it’s great to walk in and find a friend in the new place she’s created for herself. Containing elements of other things she’s done, her music and her Greendays off Lark Lane, but new. Good on you Carole. Open Mondays to Saturdays for now.

“I’ll think about Sundays when I’ve got used to the new kitchen!”

Leaving the café I set off walking, but then don’t. Realising I’m tired from a busy week I go home and spend the rest of the day reading. Quiet days without much to say being more than fine.

Sat in the front room for the best of the light as the short day darkens.

Sunday

On Sunday I get up after a long and peaceful sleep, think about writing a ‘week in a life’ sort of thing and start, but then stop. A week’s too long and too much and I don’t want everyone I’ll meet to think they’re being written up. You’re not. I only want to write about what I already know this is, a peaceful and quietly happy weekend.

I make myself some lunch, pack my bag and go out to Sarah’s allotment. She’s already there making the best of the short hours of daylight we now have. I join in and we achieve a lot together by the time it’s getting dark. Clearing down after the autumn dieback and also restructuring the allotment now Sarah’s decided to go down to a half plot. This is her sacred space and I’m here by her occasional invitation to help. It’s good.

Then it’s dark and by 5 o’clock we’re back home and I’m writing again.

Not much then? Not much to write about from a whole weekend? Not much except everything. The peace and quiet of reading for hours yesterday. Walking around the neighbourhood and finding an old friend has opened her new place. Working with Sarah on her allotment this afternoon. After a good long sleep last night then a happy morning listening to Cerys Matthews on the radio. That will do me.

There were events I could have gone to over this weekend if I’d wanted to. This is a city after all. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be quiet.

Part of this wanting is certainly because I’m happily busier in the weekdays now and so needed these days of rest. So I can look forward to the week, which I am doing. After this weekend in early December. Happiness, sometime soon, being always a tangible possibility.

One thought on “A Weekend in Early December

  1. hirstsj

    Very good news Ronnie. Leading an enjoyable life comes down to some very simple things. It’s so easy to forget that. You’ve reminded me. Sally

    Reply

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