Sunday, November 30, 2008

When Cleaning Comes Home....

I have spent many years in an independent state of living - seemingly endlessly surrounded by small children, their friends, teenagers and friends in need of cheesy biscuits, chocolate and wine ...and although I knew I was not the best housekeeper in the world I believed my home was clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy (another Nell Docherty wisdom). Evidence however would suggest that living in a home with carpets covered equally in glitter puddles, red wine stains and dried spaghetti hoops was probably not the most hygienic environment to be growing up in - buy hey we always made great pictures, costumes for Halloweens, had great parties and my girls have VERY robust constitutions. My husband (last seen in the engine room of said Titanic desperately trying to get the engine started again as the waves rushing in from the big hole in the bottom of the boat washed over them) always said his earliest memories of visiting me in my home when we first met were indelibly marked with the interesting mixed smell of cats, tobacco and vanilla. Vanilla of course is a magic scent that makes people feel loved and I was addicted to it back in those I was nicotine. Glad to have shaken the one and hoping to resurrect the other.

Any how - to cut a long story short - my husband over this last decade has taught me the pleasures of order and cleanliness - well he has taught me that sometimes guddle can make a person tetchy and that lemon is a good scent as is bleach sometimes. His need for order has also been a pain in the arce though - when the need to hoover and clean toilets overtakes the need to invest time in a hug, that extra special half hour in bed on a Sunday morning or in just plain relaxing - well - then I'd go back to Nell's way anytime.

So - Sunday - gets up goes for magic winter walk with my friend and her dog (also my friend) - we marvel at the dinosaurs on the beach and decide we both need to do something about our long vision eyesightand get a book on birds before we die, we then go to Asda's together (girlie stuff to do!). On my return my 14 yr old teenage daughter and surrogate 15 yr old daughter (aka Sorcha's best friend Amy) start 'cooking breakfast' - that means covering every surface with everything, making puddles everywhere of any sort of sticky substance possible, burning things and then serving it all up triumphantly on a greasy plate...with love - and delicious it was. Chaos remains behind them as they disappear to do more interesting things like go back to sleep or giggle about something.

So - I have today scrubbed and hoovered and polished and dusted and washed and ordered and folded and put away - and its 7 o'clock now and I have just finished and I am now knackered. But I am also proud of our order in this stupid selfish emotional chaos caused by my so organised and tidy husband - and equally proud of the piles of things that shout 'home where love is' like the small mountain of unnecessary cosmetic items on the window sill of the hall (no reason!) and the interesting pile of shoes sitting beside the shoe organiser and not it it...the mad clutter of important things we must not lose on the fridge and sorcha's postcard from the drama department hailing her as all mighty in the class wobbing on the front of the cupboard door! My house is nice, sure it is, but not necessary - it's Knots Landing situation is nice - but it's not necessary - what is necessary is it smells of vanilla and cats and loving guddle and that will come with us wherever we go.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Titanic has sunk

Alternative Chapter 1
Ok - we 3 Brown girls and at least some of ours...have inherited an ability/skill/talent to MANIFEST our lives. It comes through the Irish in us I came from Nells lineage. What this means is that we can place our determined vision of the future behind our eyes and PUSH it into birth - we can breath life in what we believe we deserve from life. Sometimes it takes a few years but it happens...good and bad. That is why we have also honed a determined postive attitude to swimming through this lifetime - lifetimes we all value very much. I Manifested my marriage with all my might and I believed with all my heart in my creation. God damn it I WAS going to be married and it was going to be a great marriage and I would go to the feckin ball. I thought I had. But it was not quite well enough made and it has sunk, and that is that.
Alternative Chapter 2
I have been very sad and overwhelmed with this loss - but stuff has happened to make me remeber that the world and the scope of the world is wide and I have not yet had my grown up gap year and there are people to meet, play with, talk to, love, sing and dance with all over this planet - and I have not even met them no time to lose. I am happy that coincidence or guardian angel has made me look hard at the wealth of love and friendship I have in my life and has made me make choices about the way my life will be manifested now (I have the flip chart paper and pens ready). I am hugely proud of my girls and hugely in love with my family and my friends. I am reclaiming the 27th December as the day upon which beautiful things happen - for the rest of my life. I am not mad and I am enjoying new friends.
Thats kinda it.
Whta a lot of shite one writes late in the night when wine has made you pre-sentimental-demented. Will get back to chapter 1 for a rewrite later -

Friday, November 28, 2008

Titanic is sinking

Chapter One

It was the ship that could not sink. It was built on secure plans. It was the unsinkable Fargie-Brown marriage. So much hard thought and work went into this ship and the voyage was heading out to sea well - to new lands - to better places. And then the captains both took their eyes off things. One to focus on making more money and creating more security so the elder cptn could retire and all would be well - and the elder cptn because he wasn't getting enough attention anymore because the junior captain was working so hard, started stargazing again - and the the iceberg was upon them.

Chapter Two

She was in the water - and she couldn't swim. Dimly -throught the shock - through the memory of the swirling water racing through the hole - the electrics going out, the cables sparking... - the distress hooter filling the night sky with screams - she realised that she was going to have to survive. She wasn't alone - goddamnit - there was a child - she was holding her up in the water and had to keep working for her. If she had been alone she could have let go and spiralled down down down. Treading water - singing hyms - slowly she knew and felt there were other craft in the water around her - shouting support - sending her things to float on and to hold onto - but though there was no room on their boats to get her out of the water - there was support and encouragement to keep going. The waves are high and the water and the air is cold and she is alone with her babe.

Chapter Three
Who knows why or how - but a secret flare brought a boat. The man who lived on that boat saw the girl and the babe and offered an oar. The girl clung. She climbed up and was given soup and a towel and new clothes and she dried her hair and found some sleep. The man was kind and funny and knew a thing or two about surviving ship wrecks and promised all he was doing was helping her reach shallower waters where she might be able to paddle into a new life alone - maybe - herself, maybe not. So she cried and fretted and then eventually relaxed on his boat as the sillhouette of the Titanic became smaller and smaller and she began to leave that shipwreck behind..she began to mourn for that fine ship and all that it promised. Now though she new she was starting from a new design idea and would - one day - have the resources to build again.

Chapter 4

What next - where to find a place to build a new boat for herself and her girls? Who will be there to help or can she do it all alone? Where will the boat go....?This chapter aint written yet.