A new Twitter writing dare...

Oh dear I've found some new writing challenges on Twitter from @storybandit, including this one 

We dare you to write a 199-word story that includes the following words: scream toddler metallic glazed failure #writingdare

well obviously now I am back in a writing mood I can't resist, so here's what I came up with. It didn't quite go the way I thought it would but it was interesting to write ...

There was a time she would have screamed in outrage, thrown herself on the floor and had a full toddler tantrum fit.

But now the medication gave her face a glazed countenance. 

She was revered as one of the success stories here at Sunny Brooke. An oh so cheery establishment where problems were dismissed and swept away by the popping of pills that kept the residents numb.

Her eyes unfocussed and the world passed by. It was easier that way.

Only she’d been getting restless for a little while, surreptitiously hiding the metallic tasting tablets in the pot plant behind where she sat for dinner.

With fascination she monitored her own little science experiment. For weeks the plant showed little ill effect.  However there was a renewed spark growing within her, a sense of something stirring. 

Then one day she discovered a dead leaf lying like crumpled brown paper by her chair. Stooping she bent down to retrieve it, turning it casually to dust between her quivering fingers.

It was time once again to embrace the idea of being a failure. It was time to see if she could still scream and put a voice to her growing disenchantment.

De-clutter

It’s half term and I came up with a cunning plan. 

I told the boys in advance before the holiday even began, “we are going to have a sort out! If anyone wants to buy this house we really have to clear out some of the clutter. I am not taking it with us to a new home.”

Youngest son has done quite well, admittedly he hasn’t thrown much away as yet but he has managed to sort out some of his Lego shelves, find a few missing pieces along the way and I have managed to wipe away a very thick layer of dust – yuck!

Oldest son has a large cupboard full of stuff I want him to go through – I must nag him tomorrow because he’s not even made a start yet. His half term has so far comprised of revision, going to the gym, watching tennis and writing his blog.

Meanwhile I’ve begun but not got very far, I’ve set myself quite a challenge as I have lots of rooms to go through however as I have started in the guest room where the laptop usually lives I have been distracted all too often by the lure of Twitter!!!

However I have made the momentous decision to finally chuck out ALL of my card making paraphernalia. I am going to pass some onto a friend who’s just taken it up as a hobby. 

((Never ever tell anyone you have started a new hobby or a collection you will always get inundated with stuff. It’s why I have accumulated so much in the first place!))

But I am only passing on the very best and most useful stuff; it’s not fair to give her the crap as well!

It has been surprisingly liberating to throw out and let go of scraps of paper and card I will never use! The more I threw away the easier it became; I have gathered momentum and become completely ruthless!

In a lot of ways it is easy, I have no emotional attachment to the pretty scraps torn from magazines and packaging but I need to move on next to cards I have received and kept and that could be trickier. 

You see I still have every single wedding acceptance card, every wedding and engagement card, all my 40^th birthday cards and probably the largest pile of all – about a hundred condolence cards.

To be honest they don’t take up a huge amount of space, perhaps I could keep them all, but why? Do I really NEED them ALL?

It was my dad who has been the most helpful, “Just keep a few, the special ones.” He said to me the other night on the phone.

And I know that’s the right answer and they were the words I needed to hear. I’ve heard them before but coming from my dad, just at that moment was particularly timely.

I just can’t keep everything and I’m realising more and more that part of grieving is letting go and moving on and if I don’t let go I can’t move forward and I have felt stuck for far too long.

I want to sell the house but I need to prepare for the day I get a phone call that sets that chain of events in motion. I hate waiting for things to happen so much but I think it’s finally hit me there are lots of things I can do to get ready. Sitting around moping is no longer an option!

So we are making progress with the boys’ stuff, my things and some shared possessions but then we move on to the most challenging items of all – what do I do with Andrew’s belongings? The things he cherished and horded and collected.

Some items I disposed of quickly but others have been lingering as I decide my best course of action. In the back of your mind you always wonder at an objects worth, if I throw this out will I regret it in a few years’ time when I discover it is valuable!

Finally I got hold of someone to come and look at Andrew’s record collection (I made a bit of a mess trying to dispose of them before)  his opinion is that most of them are worthless on the open market. Most are too scratched and the picture sleeves are missing, like a lot of DJs Andrew filed them away in plain cases and stuck number stickers on them to keep them filed away neatly and that devalues them.

Out of six boxes he only took a handful of vinyl away to try and sell on eBay. I might make £30 from the transaction if I am lucky.

It’s not about the money, that’s irrelevant in this instance, but I need the space in my life and I can’t hold onto these things any longer. With some regret and a deep breath I think I need to take a trip to the tip. 

It’s a bold step but I need to de-clutter, get rid of objects and emotions to move on and after three and a half year I am just about ready to do that.

I know there will be comments; youngest son has started already this morning saying I shouldn’t. 

I just burst into tears but I can’t hold onto all these things any longer, they weigh my down and I want to be free.

So please DON’T judge me, DON’T tell me I am foolish and NEVER tell me I am throwing away something valuable. Once these things were pure treasure but only I know their true worth now.

Of course some I will keep, “just the special ones,” as my dad would say and feeling less burdened I am more ready to begin a new adventure…

 

Letter to the monster under the bed…

  I am just in time to link up with Ruth @ Learning (one day at a time) for another Letter to... 

This week We are writing to the monster under the bed...

Here's what I made of the prompt and as I wrote I discovered to my surprise that I am not quite as fearful as I once used to be...

You are a black smudge on my cream coloured bedroom carpet.

Did you think you’d escaped my notice completely?

Or do you quite like to be seen dancing your exotic eight legged quickstep?

I saw you out of the corner of my eye scurrying as fast as those long lean limbs could carry your bulbous body.

Now you are hiding under my bed.

I can’t see you but I know you are there, lurking amongst the dust and snotty dried up tissues that I’ve neglected to hoover. 

A place where both angels and us lesser mortals fear to tread!

You are the overdue tax bill I found the other day,

The falling down house next door,

The gathering leaves on the lawn.

You are the face in the mirror that wonders “why?”

The paperwork that’s piling up,

The rattling door handle that threatens to fall off,

You are a scary version of the future where I end up alone

The fear of not being a good enough parent

The dread of just getting it wrong

In reality you are a spider pure and simple. But there was a time not very long ago when I would have screamed and physically been unable to move. To actually sleep soundly in a bed with a spider beneath would have been practically impossible, but one by one I am facing my fears...

spiders, 

dogs, 

the death of a loved one

and the uncertainty that follows.

Curiously I struggled to make a list of things above that frighten me because I have grown stronger in the past three years. 

I know completely that God is ever present, even when I momentarily forget what I know to be true and the fears creep out for a merry little dance.

God has got this all figured out all I have to do is trust. He’s always there reaching out to hold my hand.

Today I have come to realise that most of the monsters under my bed are merely tissue shadows covered in dust and maybe it’s time to get the hoover out.