The photographs show the craft stall that I am running at my Quaker meeting this afternoon.  It’s one of several stalls at the spring fayre, but unlike many craft stalls, it’s less about items that people have crafted and more about actual things to craft with: we’ve got wool, fabric, embroidery yarn, lace, and a whole host of miscelleanous items.  There are also books on style and craft and lots of art supplies.  It’s all come from people at the meeting or friends; it seems that crafters (myself included) acquire lots of materials that are never going to get used, but we need the promise of a good home (rather than just the bin) to feel able to let go of them. 

We set up the stalls last night so they are ready for this afternoon.  I ended up staying an hour later than everyone else in order to finish arranging, re-arranging and generally titivating my pitch.  I came away feeling incredibly proud of the display I’d created and that it really had been an outlet for creativity.  It’s almost a shame that we have to let the punters come in and mess it all up!

Good things come in threes, according to the old adage. Well one friend’s had beautiful twins, another’s landed a fantastic new job and my mum’s bought me some fabulous yellow shoes. Hardly scientific proof that the saying is true, but it all sounds good to me. Although I shan’t object if another good thing comes along to make four. Sometimes it’s okay to be proved wrong.

Angry Birds – well, Angry Bird

Post-celebrity break-up, the gossip magazines are inevitably filled with interviews with one or both of the parties involved.  In said interviews, they reveal the major life transformation that they have instigated since their relationship ended: the ‘I can find the real me now X is out of my life’ or ‘How I lost seven stone in three weeks since we finished’ type of headline.  Whilst I am slightly cynical about the motives for such media revelations, I can certainly empathise with the basic sentiment behind them.  Post-break-up, I too am overwhelmed with an urge to do something, something dramatic, as if making a public declaration.  A declaration of what, I’m not sure – it could be a sense of ending, moving on, closure, rebellion.  Or all of these things.  All I know is that I keep musing on what spectacular action I could undertake.  The main change I have instigated is a fitness drive, but that isn’t speedy enough; results could take weeks, even months, to be apparent.  I want something more immediate, more ‘Ta Da!’.  Possible ideas that have occurred to me, from the large to the slightly feeble, include:

1)      Move somewhere else

2)      Buy a new car

3)      Buy coloured eyeliner (what a rebel!)

4)      Dye my hair (there’s no limit to my imagination!)

5)      Commit to a life of celibacy

6)      Go vegan

I doubt I shall do any of the above as I haven’t seriously considered any of them, but still such ideas (and more) keep running around my mind.  I feel compelled to act out some kind of rite of passage to mark the relationship’s passing.  I’m not even sure why this is the case; it’s not like it’s been a long relationship or a traumatic ending to it.  Maybe therein lies the answer.  There’s no drama or calamity to retell to friends over bottles of wine, no bust-up to pick over in my imagination.  Things just changed.  Yet with no shouting or screaming or crying to let out all the emotions that accompany such a decision, I’m left with it all inside – hence the desire to do something momentous.  I need some kind of release valve as deep within, I’ve my very own “I’m an angry ex-girlfriend” alter ego desperate to get out. 

The photograph shows my desk at work this afternoon.  The sight of the daffodil seemed to boldly declare that spring has truly sprung, bringing new life with it and prompting me to think that now is as good a day as any to bring my blog back to life after an unintentional break of almost five months.  I initially stopped writing when I started seeing someone as my emotions are so integral to the blog’s content but it didn’t seem fair to speak so openly about one’s feelings when they involve someone else.  After a while, I got out of the habit of writing, and then became concerned that I didn’t have anything to say anymore.  At the same time, I couldn’t quite bring myself to ‘close’ the blog; it felt that too much work had gone into all my posts over the previous eighteen months to simply remove it all with the click of a delete button.  Or perhaps I knew that I would come back to it, picking up not quite where I left off but from a point a bit further along the same road.

I am now emerging from end of the relationship that had held me back from writing in the first place.  Whilst I know I have made the right decision to move on, I still feel a bit shaky – like a spring lamb trying to find its feet.  I know that I need this blog to help me re-establish my sense of self, my sense of having a life of my own; one that I have determined, not the media nor social convention nor peer pressure nor even the well intended wishes of my friends and family.  And certainly not a life governed by a romantic relationship.

What about my second fear, that I no longer had anything to say?  I know that is not the case.  I could do a good few months worth of retrospective posts about what’s happened so far in 2012, particularly my commitment to living more sustainably, in all senses of the word – including a New Year’s Resolution to become vegetarian for twelve months.  In the last week alone, I’ve felt almost overwhelmed with possible material, from my post-break-up decision to get fit to angst about air travel to the importance of friends to the realisation that my priorities in life are clustered around four key areas. 

But there’s no need to write about all of that in this post.  Now I’m back, I have plenty of time to write about these things – and many more – in future contributions.  If there are any readers left out there, I hope that you gain something from my reflections, whether it be a chuckle, an insight or simply a way of passing your coffee break.  If not, then at least I have the deep pleasure of writing again.  Spring has sprung and a life of my own is blossoming once more.