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.