learning to relax, trying

Finding it hard to find *time* to blog of late. I loved what Jacqui had to say here about the summer months and taking a pause from it all. I have sooooo little genuine free time that I dislike sitting on a laptop and using it up! I think I am one of those eternally busy people. I honestly find it difficult to do *nothing*, like nothing at all. Almost a crazy notion. If I get overwhelmingly tired and need to sit, then I will knit too (or maybe sit whilst doing something else, like sew on my machine - that counts as resting right?). Today was my one day of the week where I scheduled nothing and planned nothing.



Desperate for a day at home with no commitments or even need to talk to anyone (bar my children, who are good people to spend time with). By 10.30 am I had already painted a bathroom wall, walked the dog, cleaned out our new chicks (!! yes I know, pics soon, they are super cute), fed and watered everyone/thing else and cleaned up the kitchen. Phew. This afternoon I walked the dog again, weeded the strawberry patch, dug over another bed, moved the chick/mama hen pen, hung out laundry, knitted (when my legs felt tired), helped small people with various things (like get out paints, find more dolly food etc), fed everyone and it's not even dinner time/prep yet. Not exactly a day of rest. But pretty much as close as I get. I still have pans to wash and I want to do more knitting, and more bathroom painting before bedtime. Can I squeeze in my yoga dvd?



Anyway not sure where this is going... perhaps tips on how to actually truly chill and do nothing at all. It's an art I have yet to cultivate. For sure. My mother (and grandmother) were/are the same. They say they will rest in bed, or in their graves. I don't think they sat down much with families and homes to tend. So yeah, tips! How to avoid the 'I can't sit down when there could be banana bread in the oven, or more laundry hung out...' scenarios I find myself in whenever weary strikes. Is it guilt? Maybe.



So yes, we have chicks! 4 out of 9 eggs hatched out into proper chicks. Three were under formed and died (the mother seemed to abandon their egg-sitting on the crucial last 3 days when her other chicks were already up and about) and two mysteriously disappeared (eaten we think by the mother). It's a harsh business to scoop dead chicks from a pen and look upon them, still curled fetus like. I tossed them into the stream for a watery grave, fearful the dog may eat them with any other method of 'disposal'. Tossed with feeling though. I should add.



We are enjoying the bits of sun the world sees fit to grant us right now in these crazy days of wet weather. My veggie garden is on pause until it gets warm enough to plant anything out. I already was too excited and rushed onwards only to find things shriveled by the cold or eaten by damp loving snails. But The Man strimmed everything back and I have weeded it all neatly at least (it's getting trickier to bend down truly low, as I found painting skirting boards - and um, missing). Plus, the major excitement over there for Esmé is that we ordered a metre square tonne of sea sand to be delivered. Over the last four years the sand pit has turned into a muddy clay pit of packed down earth. It's no longer truly sand at all and it's hard to dig in. I fear to do so too, what with having so many animals around, I may unearth something best left under. We (read, The Man) made this pit, dug deep added a thick layer of gravel for drainage and then about 2 foot of sand. So now we (again, read The Man) need to excavate it in preparation. I shall of course do my bit and.... maybe weed around the edges? Direct the crane that will need to lift the jumbo bag over the hedge? I am of course hoping The Man is agreeable to this all, since he is away this week and does not know of my master plans in the sand area. What a fine weekend I have planned for him!



Speaking of which, am tired of being solo mama. I know it's temporary and I don't mean to moan, it's just, tiring, so tiring. These are the days I feel for the solo full time mamas. I make myself try to compensate and do extra stuff. To rise to the challenge of being The All. Today is Forest School, tonight (after food shopping) I shall take them to a local fair that has been set up.... first though I need to get off here and go sort out animals and make packed lunches and hustle us ready for the day. Oh and walk the dog. That evening Fair seems a long time away right now. But we'll get there in the end, and have a ball. And my baby will kick and remind me to sit down. I am taking it's kicks and dances as a reminder to sit. It's good to do that. I feel excited every single day. I swear. It's unreal really (said in a tiny tiny voice: I don't think I felt this with the others, shhhhh). I have to stop myself from hopping about and smiling when I think of meeting this baby. I am so full of anticipation. The worry over having four and being a solo mama with a a man away with work - I don't even think about. I'll just save it for when it happens. Beacuse the worst that happens? Well there is super duper mess, maybe I cry and maybe people have to eat fish finger sandwiches. That's about it. And that's not so bad, in the end. I have learned that the huge gap between what might be and what is now is the abyss of fear for me. the dark chasm of not knowing. So I don't go there. It's a nicer place, here and now.



As usual we walk and walk and the dog is with us (or rather because of the dog, we walk). And when we get home, I do have a quick rest - see I am on here!