Well, actually……..A weekend plus one hour moment in time……..
No. Definitely not me above. I took this picture and called it ‘Eating chips with Betty Boo’. Betty Boo, as I thought could be her name, was eating chips. So was I. Hence the ‘with’, although separate nature. Put said chips down to take the photo, picked them back up and carried on eating. I thought of sitting and thinking about stuff when you have the additive of bag of chips equivalent. My equivalent a few hours ago was Booze and Honeyrose Baccy. Betty Boo? Looked like she was contemplating life and the sea was whispering answers to her questions. Seeking her own horizon adventures. Aren’t we all?
So. I’m sitting drinking deeply flavoured earthy red wine and looked at the surrounding nature and scenery from the side of our house. I have just had a weekend visit of family and very close friends. All exceptionally close. 6 people, myself included, who purposefully put out intentional escape with a get together scenario. This avoids the reality of what we are all subject to with individual everyday, current life’s experiences of work, health and relationship impacts. We put together a situation where we create a weekend of gentle experience and in doing so, create lightweight diversionary tactics. As said…..Each of us going through these problematic, stress related work, family and health related issues which are burdens of immense force. It’s a small contribution of planned activity to seek positive diversion from life changing situations.
So……..Needed? Another weekend of escapism. Done many times before and all fondly remembered. Intentionally and democratically planned. Emotions and discussion held back? Oh Yes! Why? Because to dig deeper would provoke inner turmoil to each of us. 6 people with inherent problems that, if we were to open up and share, would provide something of a situation of massive analysis need. We avoid the absolute enormity of needful talk. You sometimes cannot share experiences of such profound impact. We get together on Friday night. And say goodbye on Sunday. Friday? We’ve come from a week and more, much more, of conundrum and being battered in various ways. I’ve had a long Friday day shift ending a week of the stuff nurses go through. Hours of this and that. ‘This and that’ nurse wise is not to treat the day with wipe away disregard. It’s deep, confidential and involves the worrisome thoughts of people in a mix of hope, positivity, negativity and jeopardy. The others have been through weeks, months of terrible impacts too. Not lightweight either. Problems to really rock ‘each of the individual 6 of us’ boats. But ‘back burner’ is the art of intention to adopt.
So. I’m now having a break of one week on a holiday. Not a holiday, but a break from intensity. Suddenly, I have an ‘I’m not at work hurray intensity’ of not waking up and thinking, I’m in the hospital again! Oh deary dreary sarcastic me. Or deary dreary naughty plus ecstatic words of happiness to that effect sarcastic me. The other 5 family and friends? Not at work also and therefore……..A weekend of escapist hoped fors and expectations. Arrival. Here in Wales. Wales is the witness to a small 72 hours of cathartic delivery. Planned activity through negotiations? A train trip. Meals and chit chat sitting around our table and in our small, but friendly old comfy and historically familiar front room. A fire pit outside to be lit. A front room open fire with log basket that may be lit, but isn’t because it’s warm outside for a change. A few guitars waiting to be played. Songs of importance to show, tunes you want to share. Meals that are prepared with considerations. Drinks, a mix of alcohol and soft choice, to be imbibed with resulting ‘they’ll hit the spots’. Late nights, early mornings and a million and one thoughts inside your mind that can’t and won’t be truly discussed.
Why? Because if you did it would ruin the need for essential lighter approach. So you create a positive atmosphere. And in doing so you come through the 72 hours with a smile and stronger outlook. Yes, we talk briefly of the background problems. But intentionally lightly and quickly change the negativity. We need to look forwards. Not dwell on what is, was, may be or, in actuality, what will be. But we truly understand each other’s ‘What lies beneath’. Now is not the time to discuss. Now is the time to laugh at the stupid things we’ve done and carry on doing or saying. ‘I didn’t know he’d died until afterwards’. We’ll give you 3*** because you have no en suite and refused to cook poached eggs and offered unhealthy fried. A collected curry which provided the hottest and spiciest to the one who wanted the coolest/mildest. But a dish of quickly made mint and yoghurt cooling raita saving the day.
Bigger conversation, totally bonkers statements, occurrences witnessed……they’ll be there forever and a day. The woman chatting to us in a pub garden in Barmouth. Takes a bite of her sandwich and her false teeth go flying. The suspicious bag and laptop on the train, unaccompanied next to us and the dread of a possible threat. The lovely blokes, three seats ahead, who owned said bag who didn’t get the alarm we felt. What unaccompanied bags and the nervous scenarios involved. Innocence still exists. Tens to twenties of little scenarios to remember and laugh about. ‘Trouble with charity shop shirts? They don’t have the right sizes labelled in them. Never fit!’ Nothing to do with expanding stomach girlth has it? This weekend’s little gems. Added to the loads of previous gems from older visits here.
I have just sat outside my house. The extremely important 4 now gone home. Number 5… Wife sleeping on the sofa. Number 6, me, sitting contemplating happenings of life and what has been. Evening still dusky light and stars hidden behind unseen, but imagined, cloud formation? I have lit a pipe of fresh honey scented ‘Honeyrose’ aromatic herbal tobacco. Drunk from a red, beautiful ‘flick the rim and it sings’ glass which is filled to the rim with said lovely earthy red wine. I look at the surrounding view and images. And they are a reflection of life as seen through a parallel scenario. The Mirror Mask.
They are apt and link to the weekend’s and, ultimately, life’s experiences. The fields opposite? Familiarity and comfort in recurrence. An open, sun filled field area of timetabled green growth to following year on year plowed earth to followed shoots of crop growth. The countryside green, blue, red, white hue again and the year after year of remembered constant changing images of light, to flickering faerie dance moments to ghost like shade colours of dread and followed joy and ‘here we are as ever again’ looked fors. All opposite our house in the storytelling nature of ongoing developments born from nature and earth and crop growing cycles. Familiarity and knowing it’s Constance breeds contentment. Invasive creeping Ivy growing up the telephone pole. This ivy that needs to be eventually cut off at the root source to stop it’s overwhelming tenacity in it’s intended need for destruction of the said telegraph pole and, subsequently the wires, which would therefore cut off the information source of broadband which enriches our lives. Issues like invasive Ivy need to be cruelly, but reluctantly, cut out of your life, shoved aside and disregarded.
The beautiful beech tree, initially loved and admired, that gets taller by the year, but in doing so blots out the Aberdovey bay and sea in the distance view because it has its own purpose and dynamic to reach onwards and upwards. It isn’t bothered about inhibiting your joy in outlook. It has it’s own purpose and a ‘stuff you’ attitude. But it does provide the bees with sticky leaf nectar to eventually realise honey. Look for positivity in all things. But also provides both myself and Angie with anxieties when strong winds blow. If it goes over! So, it has to be taken down. You see? Worries circling even in sought tranquility. Everything has purpose I suppose. A plethora of Valerian plants, pink in splendour, but which clutter the garden, destroy other plant life and the eventual need to weed out their invasive roots because they’ve got too big for their boots. They destroy our stone built walls. Widen the cracks and push closeness and the knitted strengths of the bricks, stones and mortar apart. Resulting in…..Fragmentation and chaos. Just because it’s what they do. Pull them out or hit them with weed killer? They die…..and the resulting result. They stink. A smell of rot that lingers.
The fire pit that can provide warmth and comfort in its crackling activity and heart repairing flame light dance. A simple match struck and applied to the fragility that is paper, added broken small Beech branch kindling starters, to small Rose, Damson and Lilac midway branches and eventual fierce and warming damson, Apple and ash logs to give an eventual glow of heat and ability to survive the future awaiting and oncoming night chills. But……which isn’t lit whilst I sit on this Sunday night due to the fact that I am alone. I could light it and give comfort to myself. But, want to save log supplies so others can share the experience of their aromatic healing nature.
These visuals are comparisons in my minds eye to occurrences in my life. Personal Parallels. Experiences in the past where I thought “If I were to reluctantly cut that person/ivy out my life…..it couldn’t cause harm. If I had kept an eye on that tree/person over the years, it wouldn’t have blighted and negatively influenced my pleasure in seeing the beauty out there beyond. Nor rocked my psyche when harsh winds blew. Not stifled my abilities and ambitions in seeking higher realisations”.
Those wonderful people have gone now. No longer in my life. But leaving such profound impacts that they changed me oh so much. That kind of analogy. Weird analogy actually. They are no longer influencing. But still influence. All 6 of us have had similar impacts over our lifetime.
And finally. Back to pipe, honeyed sweet tobacco and wine. Staple relaxation tools. Booze and Baccy. Dangerous or comforting? At the moment I actually don’t care. Red wine and tobacco sooth the nerve jangles. It’s not addictive to a person who possesses a non-addictive genetic makeup. I have a non addictive nature. At present it is the small answers that provide the ability to survive. The larger answers can wait. My own intended prescription is a weekend I have just experienced, a final weekend one hour dose involving one bottle of red wine and two pipe fills of tobacco. Small, perfect needful occurrences to get through the chaos of both historical and very recent life’s unlooked for horrible experiences.