32 + 2 followers! Again, I’m humbled and overwhelmed. Thanks to all 34 of you for following my musings, it’s so encouraging to have you all aboard the musings journey. I am excited about having so many along this blogging journey. I genuinely hope and pray that my blog brings light to your life. I’ve found that vulnerability and transparency are incredibly powerful in our own and others lives. Knowing that others struggle reminds me that I’m not alone. In honor of my 32 plus 2 followers, I’ll share a story about 32 with you.
Do you like my candles? I turned 32 in August last year and the actual day was one of disappointment. Most of my birthdays something happens, my counselor found that fascinating..hehehe.. This year a few things happened out of anyone’s control and my original plans went out the window. I had kept it all simple and low key to avoid any disappointment and I got it anyway. This just pushes all the low self worth buttons that I am trying to deal with.
The lead up to my birthday had been great, but my actual birthday half my guests couldn’t make it and my close friends had massive turmoil happening in their life. By the end of the night I was miserable, I had an amazing Superman cake made by my cousin but everyone was subdued and there were no candles. After going out for dinner we got home and I wandered if they were going to sing happy birthday. Everyone went about their business then I sulked. Not just went quiet, I went to my room and sat on the bed and sulked. I was “just changing into my PJ’s”. Slowly. There may or may not have been some tears.
Someone knocked after a bit and asked if we were going to do cake… “Nope, there’s no candles” I called through the door. I sulked some more. Why me? Why does it always happen on my birthday? Why can’t I just have one birthday that is fun? I’ve got an amazing cake but no one to enjoy it with…etc etc…I wandered out and they asked if I was ok. “Not really” I mumbled.
I don’t really remember the next bit, locked in my sulkiness. But then there was some banging and crashing from the kitchen and talking and laughing. Sulk, sulk, sulk went I. Next thing I know in comes two of the friends with a proud 32 brightly burning on my cake. Everyone sang happy birthday. I smiled, we all laughed and the mood was much lighter after that.
That zero turned into a two is the best candle I’ve ever had. These friends that I have are the best friends I’ve had. They probably thought I was being ridiculous over candles. Yet they knew it was important to me and they made me smile and feel special. Friends to walk with us on the journey of life is essential. My near friends that I drink tea with regularly and those that I only share a virtual cup of tea with, they are all important to me. Without them all, my mental health issues would be far worse. If anyone needs to share, an “ear” to listen, a virtual friend, always feel free to contact me.
Katie brushed a strand of her blonde hair out of her face. Her hand worked in circles, polishing the table with a bright yellow cloth. As the dark brown circle of wood shone under her work, Katie daydreamed about her life, her Mum, little brother and the aunt that lives close by. Her musings were interrupted by the familiar jingle of the restaurant’s front door. She looked up and saw that a lone woman clad in a large red jacket had walked into the simple and homely restaurant that was known as “Mamma Josie’s”. She hadn’t seen her before, but that was not unusual. Mamma Josie’s had it’s regulars that rarely deviated from their standard order. Kate was simply glad for the customer, Monday lunch was always too quiet. It was just Kate, the cook and Josie herself on Mondays, that was all that was needed.
The little restaurant was owned and managed by Josie McMillan, a woman who had a mid life crisis soon after her husband had his. Kate had heard that she was a big wig corporate woman who sold all her shares and bought this restaurant. The place had been in a mess, Kate had seen the photos, Josie had worked hard and invested thousands to create the ambiance of a grandmother’s kitchen. The menu items, round wooden tables and chairs and blue curtains made it homely and Kate had decided a while ago that Josie had indeed achieved her goal. The walls were white and bright and here and there were sunflowers bursting out of vases. They were in season and so they were real. Josie had shown Kate the plans for renovating the area at the back of the shop. A cottage garden would replace the straggly grass, tables and picnic benches would sit in the shade of the big tree that had been there forever. Kate forgot what kind of tree it was.
Kate smiled at the lady, “Take a seat anywhere you like. I’ll be right with you.” The lady nodded, her bobbed hair moving with the motion. She chose a two seated table by the front window, removing her big red jacket and settling into the chair. The woman’s hair was perfectly styled in a shoulder length cut, a rich brown shade hiding any greys that may or may not be there. She looked to be in her mid 30’s, perhaps closer to 40. Kate wondered if she was on her lunch break or meeting someone, the woman was dressed smartly. A plain black skirt that reached the top of strong legs and a white with black trim ruffled top was an outfit that could be worn for either. Hmmm, thought Kate, she’s wearing light make up. Just enough for the day time. Kate saw that the stockinged legs ended in a modest pair of black heels. The young waitress enjoyed her job, enjoyed the people and enjoyed trying to figure people out. The lady looked nervous, fiddling with the ruffles, her silver watch, silver chain necklace and shooting glances out the window. Was she in a rush? Maybe waiting for someone? Would she need a second menu? Kate collected two menus and walked to the lady, her waitress smile automatically lighting up her face.
“Welcome to Mamma Josie’s” said Kate.
This is my first time responding to the Weekly Writing Challenge. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, hope it was just as fun to read.
Resolved. Having made a decision, I have set my mind to a task. The resolutions we make are the choices we make to make our life better. There’s so many jokes going around about New Years Resolutions not being met. They’re funny I must admit, yet at the start of each year I have that firm belief that it is a precious moment to move from. A chance to start again, a fresh slate. A change in digits can signify new beginnings.
I’ve been on a mad clear out at work and less so at home. My housemate laughed and said it must be my Scottish blood – not sure that I have any by the way. Other friends told me of their Scottish Mother who would clean the house from top to bottom before the first of January each year. It had to be done! Including the fire put out and the hearth cleaned, in the midst of winter while the snow lay on the ground. Brrr!!
What’s all this mean for me? I have two resolutions – to take better care of myself. That’s a boring but profound one that I may share another day. The other is to write. Blog, short stories, kids stories, novels, journals, letters, emails… I will write until I can write no more. As a child I would write for hours and hours. When I write my brain processes stuff, it creates and grinds away. I love to think and by writing I will constantly think and ponder. Writing makes my spirit soar. I fell into a groove of writing in 2012, blogging and started a novel in the NaNoWriMo in November. This is one of my favorite achievements of this past 12 months, of reclaiming my dreams to write and create. I have loved writing my other blog A Flutterby In Stitches, in which I share my knitting and now crochet projects. It started as a motivator to finish some projects and now I am enjoying sharing mine and other’s progress.
At the ending of one year and the beginning of the other, I will take this opportunity to urge myself forward. To clear out clutter in mind, spirit and my room.
Do you think resolutions are a joke? What are you resolved about?
p.s The lovely journal in the picture was a Christmas gift from my parents. It’s stunning! The pen is hand carved from Tasmanian wood. I bought it whilst on holiday there.