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When life lives you rather than you living life

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Life this week has been in HD. Everything has felt extreme. I don’t know if this is because I am in a state of malnourished-guru-in-the-desert-style hallucination (it’s this Live Below the Line business– ha, you probably don’t even know I’m doing it! I’ve hardly mentioned it at all!) or if it is classic “it doesn’t rain, it pours” life.

I feel like life is a ship, forging it’s way through great crashing waves of joy, incompetence,  sorrow, bafflement and I am just clinging to a mangy little bit of canvas sail, wondering where the steering wheel thingy is.

(Partly because I want to know who’s captaining this puppy but also because, flipping heck, wouldn’t one of those vintage, rusting, wooden ship wheel thingys look BRILLIANT on the wall of the lounge????)

Here is what is happening:

We had the supremely STUNNING new vintage lifestyle mag Pretty Nostalgic come to our weird little recycled home for a photoshoot and interview. Jo and Jenny came, such lovely characters, and we just chatted and hung out and laughed and they left the first issue and it inspired my soul.

Due to that we have been putting in body achingly long hours tidying and DIYing those leftover jobs. Evenings spent dusting (first time since we moved in I think?), spare moments spent sanding and sewing and screwing (screws into walls, yeah? Filthy, you are. ) We are SO HAPPY having this tidy, clean, house just the way we like it! HURRAH!

Ramona is a sick little sausage, an ear infection and a hacking old flem cough. She nurses all night, and all day at the moment. But she is still a comedic, gorgous, little madam, just one that keeps me up all night snuggling in for more “BAPS!”

My 9-5 work is off the scale busy and at this moment I feel a little breathless with exactly how many balls I am juggling with that. I feel a bit exasperated that I can’t do justice to everything required of me. But I love the work, I love my colleagues, I just wish it didn’t eat into my brain as I try to sleep.

I got through to the finals of the MAD blog awards in TWO categories, Craft and Thrift- thank you SO, SO, SO much for voting for me. I am gobsmackedly chuffed but also, well, a little embarrassed to see Lulastic up against so many incredible, behemothic blogs. Even though I know, I just know, I would be a bit upset not to have gotten through. When you love to blog and pour your heart in, I guess that kind of comes with some high hopes for it.  How weird is that: how weird am I.

As I type my Nana, Betty Tribble, is living her last few days, losing consciousness. She has been slowly wilting over years, this most wonderful, WONDERFUL specimen of womankind. Love bursting, laughter sparkling, snack pushing Nana – “Stick these biscuits in your pocket as you go love, you’re WASTING AWAY I tell you!”- full of wit and all the patience and grace in the world.

*heaving sob*

*pulls self together*

And then this back drop of Below the Line fuelled stomach- angst. We are getting through okay. We are not starving. We are just missing food. We have realised just how much we use food to celebrate and to commiserate. When anything even slightly brilliant happens we say “COR, that’s gotta be worth some cake, eh?!” or if we are tired and feeling sorry for ourselves we bury our faces into a splendid Thai takeaway. This week food has just been about filling a gaping hole in our tummies and nothing more. How we miss it.

Hopefully next week will be back to normal and I can spend my days crafting away and wandering whimsically amongst charity shop shelves packed high with jumble.

See you on the other side…

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