I have a heavy heart today. It is grey and damp outside, and I’m not quite sure if my mood is echoing the weather, or vice versa. I suspect each is magnifying the other.

I think Jessica is really starting to feel the effects of her immunisations last week. After a couple of days last week of not wanting breastfeeds in the day, all she has done today is feed, cry, or drowse. When she wakes she cries, and only stops when she is feeding. 

I had news from a friend today, which makes me feel sad for them, and for the people they work with. A sign of the times unfortunately, but sad news which I can’t share.

A man I worked with for six months or so a few years back, when I was doing hours at Witham library died in his sleep. I didn’t know him well, but he leaves a wife and little girl, and I feel sad for them.

Another friend is starting treatment for cancer.

Lastly, and this has affected me strangely more than I would expect, Elisa Beynon died in May. She was better known as The Vicar’s Wife, and wrote the Vicar’s Wife’s Cookbook, one of my favourites. She had a lovely writing style and her recipes work beautifully. I’ve searched for her on google ocasionally to see if she was blogging or writing another cookbook. Ten minutes ago I found that she died suddenly at home. She wasn’t much older than me.

I can’t stand the thought of dying so suddenly, leaving Jessica and my family. Her crying for me, for my milk, not being there. I hate the thought if people gone before their time.

I feel overwhelmed, or perhaps underwhelmed is more apt, with the housework at the moment. I love this little house, but I do the same things over and over so many times a day. Wiping down the high chair. Washing up. Drying up. Tidying the toys. Again, again. Hoovering. Dusting. Cleaning. Nine times out of ten I don’t mind, but just now, I do. My kitchen is so, so tiny. I have a workspace the size of an A3 piece of paper. That’s it. So however much I wash up dry up, put away, one meal, one lunch and there is no room to make even a cup of tea.

I know that I am lucky to have a home, to have a kitchen, food to make the plates dirty, to be able to be here with my little girl and not go out to work. But knowing doesn’t make my heavy heart any lighter. I can’t seem to help Jessica today. She’s so cross patchy. 

The only thing we can do though, is to keep going, and wait for this to pass. So we’ll meet a friend for lunch, go to the library to change our books, and on the way home I’ll buy the ingredients for a comforting stew from the Vicar’s Wife’s Cookbook. Funny how you feel you know people from their writing or their blogs, how you can feel affected by the passing of someone you didn’t ever know.

Today the teapot will be kept on the go, pouring cups of comfort.

4 thoughts on “Heavy

  1. This world has been called a vale of tears; and some days its seems so. I am sorry for the loss you are feeling at this time. Even if we don’t know a person, we will grieve if we feel a connection to them. Distractions are a good thing at times like this. And doing the next thing.
    (I remember being a young mother and how fearful I became. Childhood was bliss in many ways because my parents did all the worrying, leaving me carefree. But once I became the parent it really hit home, how scarey life could be. It is part and parcel of this life and becoming a mature woman. Some days I’d rather be a little girl.)

    On a side note, Jessica might have a new tooth trying to come through. Another consideration is an ear infection. My son had his first ear infection around age one and the only symptom was that he was fussy, didn’t feel well at all, I knew something was amiss. Is she tugging at her ear at all? That is sometimes a sign of ear issues. The only way to know for sure is to have the doctor examine her ears.

    1. I feel so lucky to have such kind and wise words offered, thank you. That is a very good point about the ears, I have suffered a lot with mine – hopefully she won’t follow in my footsteps there! No ear tugging, but a very bulgy gum, so think it is a combination if that and her recent jabs. Sending love across the ocean x

  2. Oh dear, that sounds like a Grey Day indeed. When you feel like that, there’s nothing to be done but fling windows open, revel in any little pleasures you can and ignore the dailyness of life until you feel better. The housework can wait a day and you’d feel much better for a break.

    Having lived in a house that made Rachel Khoo’s kitchen en Paris look like a football pitch, I can sympathise. There isn’t much to do other than maybe consider branching the kitchen temporarily out into the dining room (you’re in a standard Victorian terrace, right?) by way of tables/trollies etc from Ikea or the like. I did this a bit for extra storage and cooking/food prep space and found it helped a LOT. There’s also the option of getting cheap cupboards to serve as a pantry too. Chin up 🙂

    1. Wise wise words…just inspired a new post and a bit of a new outlook for me! Ah small kitchens can be so frustrating, can’t they? I’m going to try and keep everything very very simple for a few weeks and see if that helps! Xx

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