On empty nesting and spring madness in autumn

My child, my one and only offspring, fruit of my body, is twenty one years old. Twenty one. I have produced and managed to aid a full human to grow to this ripe age and everything. And, strangely, one gets rather attached to a human living in your space like this. So it is with some dismay that I have recently realised that this human will not remain in our space forever.

It has been even more pronounced recently as they have been travelling to Norway fairly frequently to visit their partner. The last trip was the one that really drove home this realisation. And so I have started preparing myself for the empty nest syndrome.

The husband and I luckily enjoy each others company, and have spent a fair bit of time together so we won’t find ourselves suddenly living with a stranger as so many do, but our house always feels a little emptier when the young one is away and the emptiness will take some time to get used to. I am sure it, as all other feelings, will eventually fade.

I will just need to plan my travels carefully, to ensure we can continue the one real tradition we have, which is me waking them up at 5:45am on the morning of their birthday with pancakes (or crepes as the rest of the world apparently calls them).

Growing up in South Africa, September was always the month of spring. It may not always be warm, but the signs of spring would be everywhere – sun rising earlier, trees in full bloom, air full of promise. September also meant I had a lot more energy and a head full of ideas, which I later realised was a cyclical bout of hypomania.

When we moved to the northern hemisphere, I believed this would end, as September is the beginning of autumn, and I expected I would see a slight downturn in mood.

And last year, my first September here, I didn’t really notice a mood swing either way.

But, this year, the mood I associate with September is back. Less sleep, more excitement, more exuberance, more energy. And thanks to my lovely friend Mandy’s research skills, I have now learnt that this is expected behaviour. And with some additional research, it turns out this is expected two weeks on either side of both the Autumn and Spring equinox. I must be honest, I have not really tracked my mood that actively for the last few years, and I have become a little complacent. I can feel the hypo coming on, and try and manage as much as possible with diet, sleep, exercise and sheer stubborness, but this means I am probably overdue a full episode and should keep track of things slightly better again.

Living the expat life

I have been in the UK for 8 weeks now. Eight full weeks. My family have been here for five.

In these weeks, we have moved into a new house, bought and built a crapload of IKEA furniture (and are at risk of looking like an IKEA catalogue), been to London once as a family, been to Reading a couple of times as a family and slowly made peace with the chilly weather.

I have travelled to Leeds three times for work, and made peace with the British rail system. The husband has found a lovely contract position, which means he is making some money and feeling like a productive human being.

And, in this very short time, we have become a much happier bunch of people.

In South Africa, we lived in constant fear. It is not the obvious, surface, “I’m being hunted” fear, but rather a deep, subconscious fear that you don’t even know is there. We had a high wall around our house, and an alarm system linked to an armed response company. We, as a family, communicated constantly on WhatsApp to let each other know where we were, to let each other know we were safe. We lived close to one of the biggest parks in Johannesburg, but could not walk through the park alone during the day, and you definitely did not go anywhere near the park after dark.

When we started looking at houses in England, I had this romantic notion that I would like to live in a small village in the English country side. After a lot of searching, we found just such a place.

We found a lovely terraced house in a little housing estate deep in the Berkshire forest. It is idyllic, to say the least. When I walk out of my front door I can see the horses from the neighbouring stables grazing and squirrels playing in the trees. At night, I can see stars in the sky.

The biggest downside of where we live is that the closest train station is a 2 mile walk, but I get to walk through a beautiful woodland area and a golf course on my way. The walk has also helped me regain a bit of fitness and shed some of my baby fat *grin*

I do this walk when it is dark most of the time. And my biggest fear is walking into spider webs.

We no longer have fitful sleep because we are no longer afraid. We no longer need to spend 10 minutes before bedtime locking up the house and making sure the alarm is set. We no longer worry when one of the family members go for a walk, or even travel across the country.

Of course, we are not completely naïve, and understand that crime still exists in the UK. But it is not as woven into the fabric of every day life that you need to live in constant fear. All round, we are a happier family because the fear has been removed. And this makes all the things we have left behind, the little sacrifices, very much worth it.

Twenty Four

We started unpacking the many, many boxes in our store room, and I came across a box with some of our old wedding pictures. I took a photo of a photo (yes, indeed, I did that) because I wanted to keep this one with me.

Such a long time ago. Scary to think how much we have been through since then.

Eleven

This week, my most beloved author, Sir Terry Pratchett, passed away.

I was a voracious reader as a teenager, and read just about every book in our public library by the time I was 16. When I asked the librarian for suggestions, she handed me Pyramids, which I devoured in a few hours and returned for more.

When my daughter was a baby, I took her to a local mall one day (just to get out of the house). While walking around, I noticed a sign on one of the bookshops advertising a book signing by none other than Mr Pratchett (he wasn’t a sir quite yet then) for 2pm that afternoon. I bought some of his books not yet in my collection, patiently waited until 2pm and for 1 brief minute got to spend time in his presence while he signed books for me. They are my most treasured possessions.

No other writer has influenced how I see the world as much as Sir Pterry. He will live on in his writing.

(This picture was taken at the Discworld Emporium during our visit in July 2013.)

i remember

i remember
   the long nights of dreaming
          wishing upon a star
hoping and praying to
           all listening deities
and wishing stars
       for you to end
for the pain to end

not enough
not good enough
not clever enough
not funny enough
       not enough enough

and one day i realised i am free
            and left

it has been years
                but you still break my heart
at every turn

i am worth so much more than this

Sentimental Sunday: Jimi Hendrix – All Along the Watchtower

One day, long long ago, in a galaxy right here, my father said to me that if he understood the meaning of the words to this song, his life would be complete.

We’ve always had a bit of a complicated relationship, but recently my dad and I had a conversation about nothing really important – work, meetings, bureaucracy, that kind of crap – but afterwards it felt like we were speaking the same language, we were on the same page. It was a special feeling, and one I hope we can repeat, not just once, but often. So, this is my fathers’ day song, dedicated first to my dad, but also to anyone else who has an interesting, complicated relationship with their dad.

"There must be some kind of way out of here,"
Said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion,
I can't get no relief.
Businessman they drink my wine,
Plowman dig my earth
None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey"
"No reason to get excited,"
The thief, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late"
All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants, too
Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
business man there, drink my wine,
Come and take my herb.

~ Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower

Billy Idol–Catch my fall

Flashbacks to High School days and house parties. Such carefree days.

Sentimental Sunday: Sisters of Mercy - Dominion

And this is what got me into the whole Goth thing in the first place.

Sentimental Sunday: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – The Mercy Seat

This was not the first Nick Cave song I heard – that honour goes to Tupelo – but this was the song that stole my heart.

Sentimental Sunday: Sweet Child O’ Mine

This week’s trip down memory lane was a nomination from a friend, and when he initially suggested it I was a little sceptical. You see, I would never call myself a big Guns ‘n Roses fan. Well, not in public anyway.

But watching the video again after all these years I remembered just how much I loved this song. And then I realised that I was all of 13 when this song was released – which happens to be the same age as my daughter is now. And at 13, very interesting things happened to me musically.

You see, as I have previously mentioned (I think) my parents listened to a fair amount of rock (Led Zep, Doors, that kind of thing) and everything was good. But at 13, I discovered the joys of ‘new’ rock, metal, goth and punk. And this song was one of the first to lead me down that path.

I think I am now comfortable to admit to liking Guns ‘n Roses. Finally. Yes. And again, it is because of this song.

Sentimental Sunday: GnR - Patience

(Because today is a public holiday, we are treating it like a Sunday)

Oh man, I so love this song. Never really liked Guns n Roses back in the day – I always thought them to be too commercial, I suppose – but these days, I do have a little soft spot for them. This song reminds me of being an angsty teen girl with boy problems :)

It is funny to think they are now considered a classic, like we thought of the Beatles when we were kids.

Sentimental Sunday: Iron Butterfly – In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

I woke up with this song spinning around in my head. Another blast from my long-forgotten past, this song surfaces in my memory every now and again at the most interesting times. I do love the complexity of this song – not lyrical, maybe, but the music itself. My parents have some interesting stories around this song, but I can’t remember them, so I won’t retell just yet.

Sentimental Sunday – the soppy edition

For no other reason than it is Valentines day. And almost 15 years down the line, it is still like this for me.

Sentimental Sunday: My heart will go on

Warning: Mushy content below.

Tomorrow, 13 years ago, my daughter was born and I learnt that it is possible to fall in love with a person in a completely different way. I was fortunate enough to be able to stay home with her for the first two years, during which time we played, slept, ate and danced together every single day – it is a time I am very grateful for and will always hold dear.

This song was the song I danced her to sleep with when she was still a tiny little baby. It is very unusual for me to have music like this anywhere near my playlist, but 1997 was also the year Titanic was released, and it was the first movie I felt brave enough to take a baby along to go see – and the song spoke to me and that love I felt for this little creature I was now responsible for and who’s existence saved my own.

Sentimental Sunday: Jethro Tull – The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

I have really been enjoying my recent trips down musical memory lane to the point where I will now, during the week, think about my next trip. This week, I was going to focus on Jethro Tull’s Stormwatch*, but while looking for a video this morning on YouTube, I came across this forgotten favourite from my childhood.

I think, by now, it is no secret that I am absolutely and utterly in love with Alice in Wonderland, and as a young girl, this interlude in The Passion Play transported me down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. Listening to it now, all these years later, I still feel like I need to follow a rabbit.

Lyrics:

Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by. Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper to no one in particular,
``The hare has lost his spectacles" Well, he began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a newt. And sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for without his spectacles he was completely helpless. Where were his spectacles? Could someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
``You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot".
``No! interrupted owl, who was wise. ``i have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight. How could an intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?
But all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence, Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others. She was their leader; their guru. She had the answer:
``Hare, you must go in search of the Optician".
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his spectacles. and so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed,
``I cant send hare in search of anything!
``You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt. ``You can send him with owl".
But owl had gone to sleep. Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem -- ``You can take him in your pouch". But alas, Hare as much too big to fit into Kangaroos pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew nothing about spectacles. As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care. The lost spectacles were his own affair. And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

 

* I always remember Stormwatch, not for the music but for the cover. As a 3 or 4 year old, there was nothing that scared me as much as this cover:

I remember always running past, and checking if the lightning was still flashing in the visible eye. Just to make sure.

Sentimental Sunday: The Sex Pistols – My Way

After yesterday’s little find, the Pistols have been on my mind continuously. I was never really a big punk, but I did dabble a little – mostly musically, in the mid to late 80s. As a very young teen, a week-end treat was visiting the old flea market in Newtown, Johannesburg, and shyly checking out the punks hanging out on the wall next to the Market Theatre, begging for money and generally giving attitude to all spectators.

[pictures nicked from the I remember Club Alcatraz group on Facebook.]

Sid Vicious singing My Way, for me, was the embodiment of punk back in those days, and everything I believed in: making your own choices, living life your own way. Even though the romanticism of the Gothic subculture - especially its music - appealed more to me in the end, the freedom of the punk ethos always appealed to my inner rebel, and still does to this day.