Source: Meditation on Hiraeth
Dear Paint Manufacturers
As a grandparent, a parent and an enthusiastic DIY’r I wonder if I may be so bold as to make a few suggestions for the names of paint? Paint that parents could relate to, instantly imagining what the colour was like. A easily washable paint that didn’t take much work to maintain. You have a captive audience here I think, and I feel you’re missing a trick.
I’m asking this as I’ve just had my 1 year old granddaughter for the morning, and we shared lunch together. Of course this isn’t the first time she has been to my humble abode, but it’s the first time I have notice how much more interested in feeding herself she has become! Needless to say there was more food on the surrounding areas than in her little tummy. The simple plastic spoon became a weapon that any archer would have more than proud of. And her plastering skills were second to none!
Of course these new skills came with a sense of humour on her part. Each time she accomplished getting the food to where she wanted it to go, there was a huge smile on her face. This didn’t entail the food going in her mouth – oh no – more of it was on the wall and the floor!
So these are my suggestions to start with, I’m sure there are lots of parents out there with other ideas, something more seasonal, or families who eat different food ranges. Chinese – sweet and sour chicken perhaps. Indian – chicken or Paneer tikka, Dhal. The range could be endless.
Omelette – today’s colour of choice, a mild yellow with a few streaks of orange and yellow and green.
Lunch and desert – a sort of rainbow colour really. Imagine the colours of a wrap filled with fish fingers, tomato sauce, and some cucumber and lettuce, followed by blueberries. The colours would be vibrant and fresh, like a salad.
Tuna and Pasta – a subtle light pink colour, with a cream sheen. Restful and calm. Unlike lunch times.
Soup de jour – well that is anyone’s imagination. Whatever paint you have left at the end of a run, green pea and ham, to a vibrant orange carrot and parsnip or a subtle yellow, with a hint of green and yellow for mixed veg. The choice could be yours.
Bolognaise – a bright red would be just right for this, perhaps with a little soupçon of brown just to give it more of an authenticity. Or it could be in the range like suede, and glitter, with a bit of a bumpy surface?
I hope this has given you food for thought – no pun intended. After a long hour of cleaning the walls, I have very little sense of humour left. If I can order a litre of Bolognaise for next week, she’s back with me soon, I can arrange my meals around my wall colour.
On days like those, or days like this
That are filled with tragedy and sorrow
I often think -one day- I won’t be here.
So I love my husband extra hard
And hug my sons just that little bit tighter
And give my granddaughter just one
Because – I might not be able to do it again
And I’ll never know.
Goodness, it is so very hot. We aren’t used to this kind of weather in the UK.
The weather when you need to leave your windows open, so every mosquito and moth and bug can come in and have a party in your living room. Feasting on your blood, and leaving those itchy red welts for days to come. Or flying into the lights, and casting those ghostly shadows on the walls, as they dance the dance of light, before falling down to the ground in exhaustion.
Strappy tops and burnt shoulders are not a good look, or sandals with socks. But we insist on going out in this summer uniform until it cools down.
Last night my bedroom was 29 degrees, hot enough to cook an egg, if I had the energy to try! I slept out of the covers, or should I say I tried to sleep out of the covers. it was too hot. Then it was too cold, then it was too hot, it went on and on!
Well today is another day, a day of cool and calm. Actually I had so little sleep I think I’m hallucinating – it’s still hot – in fact its even hotter. Its not calm as I rush from room to room looking for some shade.
I’m going out soon, my car has air conditioning, its going to be a long car ride!
Those around me are drowning in sorrow at the minute. It’s such a very sad time.
And it has made me remember my mam, and how very much I loved her, and still do. And every day I miss her so very much.
I’m listening to stories of long drawn out illnesses, and brave battles fought again and again. And long lives lived and memories made with young families. And with the greatest of sadness, a life not much older than mine being snatched away, while those around are helpless, and wordless – but not without a river of tears.
I had no time really to say good bye, just good night. The next morning she had gone, before I had time to tell her our plans of grandchildren and weddings. I know she didn’t want to go, it wasn’t how she planned it, I’m sure of that. Her favourite shopping was for hats. But life is both blessed and cruel. On one hand a fine engagement ring, on the other funeral plans. I’d just come back from Paris, where my kind loving boy had given me his undying love and knelt under the tower to ask me to be with him till death do us part.
I’d found one love and lost another – in the blink of an eye.
That’s why we need to say ‘I love you’ every day, with genuine feeling in our eyes. We need to build memories, not hide secrets. And treasure the family we have, for as long as we have them.
I was driving home today from a shopping trip. Coming up to a large local roundabout, when suddenly a police motorcycle pulled up in front of us, and held his arm up. STOP he indicated. So we did. I could see another police motorcyclist doing the same at the next junction of the roundabout. The roundabout came to a grinding halt. Nothing moved, it was as if time was standing still.
Suddenly speeding around the roundabout was a magnificent aubergine colour Rolls Royce car, with big glass windows, and a flag flying in the wind on the bonnet. There was someone sitting in the back holding on to the little handle just over the window, as it sped around the corner. Off into the distance it drove, flanked by more motorcycles. The cars in front of it being parted like the red sea in a biblical story.
It was a royal car carrying monarchy to the Epsom Derby.
It made me think. ‘The Royals’ never have to wait for anything, do they? They never have to worry about ordering something and having to wonder what the delivery slot will be, who will wait in for it, and if the DPD guy will throw it over the railing at Buck house, because someone was in the garden, and didn’t hear the doorbell? They will never have to stand in a queue waiting to be served, or by the look of it, sit at a traffic light waiting for the traffic to move off.
Their priorities are different aren’t they? While we as mere mortals worry about our job perhaps and how will we put our skills to best use, they probably have to think, how their ‘power’ and social standing will be put to use to make the world a better place.
Now that is some pressure isn’t it?
I think that despite having to worry if there is enough money to pay the bills, I would rather have to do that – than have that type of pressure on me; be in the public eye, have less than a private life.
If my hair is out of place, I only have myself to blame. My face isn’t plastered over the tabloids when I do something inappropriate. No – I am lucky I can live a life without fame and fortune. I’m glad there are others who make the world a better place in a different way to me, and I’m more than happy to move out of the way for them.