When it rains ...

September 2024

… it pours.

Flavia Marquez via Pixels

Or, to use a less soggy phrase, you wait hours for a bus and then three come along at once.

All of which is to say that after years of repeating the well worn but clearly wildly inaccurate sentence “we’re hoping to get my parents house on the market in the next couple of months” I appear to be able to replace the word months with weeks and, more importantly - do not let me saying this jinx it, I repeat, Do Not Let Me Saying This Jinx It - not being a lying liar who lies when I say it.

What this potentiality currently means is that I’m in the middle of a particularly complicated “fox, chicken, grain” moment¹ with those three things being substituted for:

1. getting the last of the things done to make the house presentable for estate agents and viewing (including skip hire for the things that were too big to go to the tip in the boot of my car)

2. booking the aforementioned estate agents to value said house and then instructing one, along with a solicitor and all that jazz, and

3. trying to make sure my mother - who is more poorly than usual - is not made worse by the first two things.

I do this whilst desperately trying not to count my chickens before they’ve hatched and also clinging to the possibility that I’ll actually get their house on the market as if it’s my last link to sanity. Because it is.

Honestly, I am so exhausted and overwhelmed by everything at the moment (years of living in limbo will do that do you) that if I get any more surprises² I’ll be at the having kittens point of hysteria. Although, having looked at everything I’ve written so far, I’ll at least get some respite when I’m arrested for interminable use of cliches. Something that, given the rate I seem to spitting them out, will happen faster than a speeding bullet³.

More seriously, cross everything for me, please; fingers, toes, eyes, arms, legs, anything you think might help. Prayers, good vibes and pleas to the universe to make this all go smoothly are also very (very) gratefully received.

Other than having produced a round up of what I’ve been reading this month there has been no word herding that’s generated anything resembling a blog post or story, no yarn wrangling that has resulted in a finished item of crochet, and living life currently seems only to consist of cleaning, cleaning, cleaning!

Needless to say this is less a newsletter and more a news-postcard; a hurriedly written splurge of words that doesn’t really communicate much beyond that fact that I’m here. I wouldn’t “wish you were here” though, the entertainment’s awful and the view’s rubbish.

Still, I can attempt to provide at least one of the things my “about this substack” section says I’ll be sharing each month. Here is a one card draw tarot insight into October:

Having stared at this card longer than is possibly good for me, my brain has refused to come up with anything that wasn’t as trite as the cliches I was trotting out above. So I went back to the little book that came with the deck and, reading it, realised that this time I wasn’t going to be able to express this card better than the words gifted to us by the deck creator:

XIX. THE SUN

The Sun positively oozes with life. Bedecking the universe in its fluid effervescence, it ripples out into the cosmos, vitalizing and energizing everything it touches. The great creator, the Sun is the impetus for all things to grow upwards and exult in the sheer bliss of living. Open your heart and absorb its hale, hearty power.

When the Sun turns up in a reading, use it as a reminder that life is wonderful and precious. Its radiant beams will light up even the darkest aspects of your existence, and you do not need to be afraid or doubtful for your future. Its warmth will wrap around your being and enliven it. If it is not readily apparent, be calm and search deeper, it is sure to reveal itself in due time. If you are lucky enough to bask in the greatness of the sun, share it with those you love; it will bring them joy and reassurance as they themselves tread through shadow.

Until next time, dear readers, I leave you with a blessing:

As the nights lengthen may we find the time to do what needs to be done and have both the energy and space we need to give ourselves the nourishment and rest every living thing requires.

1. If you missed my February newsletter, with those three words as the title, you might be a bit confused so here’s the link to find out what I’m waffling on about:

2. I have spent far too many hours of my time this month dealing with something that was not in any way in my control, that I had previously been assured wouldn’t be happening until next year and, thanks to the other people involved being completely unprepared for the realities of what they were causing to happen, a total shambles in every way shape and form. I have been biting my tongue so hard and smiling so sweetly to prevent myself saying exactly what I think - which would cause way more problems than the satisfaction airing those views would bring me - that I suspect my poor jaw has been permanently altered.

3. I’d apologise but I find I’m not sorry.