A DAY A WEEK A MONTH A YEAR

Today: 15 minutes, 19 degrees, 5:45

1 year ago I wrote a post (linked above). I think of that post a lot. I can still feel that afternoon, be back in that moment. It was so calm, so peaceful, and so much a window into my day. On cold rainy days, I remember the warmth of the sun on that evening, and the red glow which filled the room. And on noisy loud days I long for that sense of connection back to the absolute here and now the noises around me had. 1 year later, how is this day going?

The air is still and close as clouds draw down, heavy with rain which has not fallen, and probably wont in any quantity. It is muggy, but not oppressive. All day lorikeets have tweetered in surrounding trees, filling the air with dense bird calls. Now they have moved on. Evening plane flights echo areoplane engine noise off the low clouds. An international flight. A domestic flight. Trains rattle in the distance, but their sound is muffled. Pia is restless on the floor, a little under the weather and in clean clothes after another mammoth day of vomiting - on me, on the floor, in a cafe. Her breathing is sharp, but her little mouth puckers out. The two fighting cats are slowly, tentatively coming back together. On my left the little one is the furthest into the living room she has been since July. The big cat is not happy and has just moved to a higher stand point to stake claim of dominance. The parrots have returned. There are no smells, no cooking, no tv's and no chatter amongst neighbours. Apart from traffic, plane and train noise there is, surreally, no other noise. We had our afternoon excitement of a procession of sirened vehicles - a fire truck, an ambulance, 2 police cars and a police rescue vehicle race past. I know as an adult that amount of sirens in procession is not a good outcome for someone. Max wanted to know why. But why. Max is in his room, tired and grumpy, putting together his elaborate lego space ships. He loves lego. And he loves space ships. I can hear the frustration levels building as he throws each piece down harder and louder. His concept of structural stability needs developing in order to keep up with his imagination. The light - the light is weird, strange yellow white bright light of rain cloud filters. Everything looks sharp. The cats are calling for dinner, and soon I will cook our own dinner which neither child will eat because one will have fallen asleep and the other will have thrown up all over everything. Again. My evergreen magnolia tree has two flower buds I can see from here, ready and poised to open, maybe tomorrow. My head is fuzzy from days of broken sleep this week, late nights, and frustrated days at work. Cat Stevens is in my head. I thank the supermarket tannoy system for the Boyzone rendition. There is knitting beside me - new knitting, swatch knitting*, unfinished knitting, and a room full of material ready to be sewed, later.

* the swatch pictured above is Habu Lamb Linen, and it's for the Short Sweater in Setsuko Torii's book.

Comments

[Jo]

oh dear... thinking of you Alison - hoping that everything gets easier, calmer, more balanced. I wish I could help. I wish someone could help me on days like this too. Tomorrow will be better - or the next - soon x [hugs]

[Alison]

I don't want to confuse anyone any more than necessary, but I have to jump in here and comment on my own post, that this wasn't a bad day - it was in fact a very ordinary day for us, apart from the vomiting, but even that seems to be par for the course these days becuase Pia is a champion spewer it seems. It wasn't a wonderful magic evening like last year, but it wasn't dreadful either - just different, and I like that contrast between the two days.

That was what I was trying to get across, just the contrast.

I apologise - because I didn't mean for it to be taken any other way, and I'm sorry if that's how it reads.

[Lilbird]

Maybe I'm caught up in the spirit of things around here, but it sounds to my like you are just Thankful for the bounty around you. *sniff* Well, except for maybe the spewing...lol...not that! How nice that with all the changes around you lately, you were able to steal a little moment to reflect!

xo

[rebecca]

The days are the pieces of life. I can imagine the light and the ambient sounds. Today is Thanksgiving and I'm sick, so we are eating what is in the house, it is also just a day, a piece of the bigger whole, to watch and absorb.

take care :)

[Michele]

this did not come through to me at all as a bad day. i like your reflection here. and really noticed your words about your son's concepts of structural stability needing to develop to keep up with his imagination. i think life is like that for a lot of us. we all have things that need developing and our frustration places point to where we need to develop.

one of the reasons i love your blog is because you show us how you are developing. i've felt lately you seem calmer, stronger, happier. it's nice that you let us see this.

on the knitting - i just got out my Torii book to look up the short sweater. looks like it will be lovely in this lamb linen.

[Julie]

Started reading, thought I should go back on read last year's post, got side tracked with Sounds of Then and I wonder where the afternoon goes to. Beautifully written - there is a sense of calmness enveloping me - thank you on this Friday afternoon when I too am tired and cranky.

[brooke]

I love the way you describe this day- quiet and yet rich with life. You mentioned on my flickr page weaving as a child-do you weave now or have any interest in taking it up again? Look forward to seeing more of the short sweater.

[amisha]

reading this and i am there with you, on that warm afternoon, waiting for rain, in that light, hearing that silence. xox