Windows, Doors, and Motorbikes

The builders arrived at 8am this morning with a van full of windows and doors for our house. We have lived here for 20 years. The house is something like 80 years old. Many of the windows were original – steel framed single-glazed windows, with He-Man handles that require a ridiculous degree of brute force to lock shut.

By lunchtime – after much smashing, crunching, breaking, and general destruction, all of the upstairs had become smart new double glazed windows, and our house had started to resember a slightly more presentable appearance. No longer the forgotten, ramshackle house in the corner. The downstairs windows, back door, and patio doors are being replaced over the next couple of days. I imagine the patio door might take two days – it will involve ripping out brickwork, re-plastering, and so on.

Anyway.

Late this evening there was a knock on our door, and my middle daughter opened it. A friend was standing outside, dangling keys in her hand. We bought the motorbike some time ago – a 5occ scooter for her to get to college on. Hopefully by September she will have completed a CBT course (Compulsory Basic Training), and will be able to ride it on the road. Her face was a picture, standing outside while trying the crash helmet on. This evening I have ordered her a book on basic motorbike training, maintainance, and servicing.

What else has been going on?

I’m still in something of a funk over the whole “blogging thing”. For the last couple of weeks I have filled evenings with movies, flying pretend aeroplanes on simulators, and strangely very little writing – which is odd, because I’ve spent much of the last twenty years emptying my head into the keyboard.

Perhaps it’s to do with lockdown. I’m not really sure.

Perhaps I need to stop thinking about it, and just be. One foot in front of the other.

Maybe I need to start reaching out to friends again, to remind myself who I used to be.

That’s a lot of maybes and perhapses, isn’t it.

3 thoughts on “Windows, Doors, and Motorbikes”

  1. Honor your funk. Don’t indulge it, but acknowledge it, and ask it what direction it would prefer. We live in interesting times. My blogging has been sporadic, even disjointed. But it’s difficult to make the quotidian engaging, when all eyes are on the crumbling of life as we know it. Pick your distraction…the deadly pandemic (and/or peoples’ insane responses to it); global protests against police violence, spawning–you guessed it–horrific levels of police violence; then there’s the near collapse of the world-wide economy (back to the pandemic); and does anyone remember climate change, as it marches, unabated and forgotten in the attention deficit news cycle? In short there are plenty of reasons to fuel writer’s block, or writer’s ennui. Sit with it. Sort it out. Maybe drink a little wine and eat chocolate. Mostly, find community that shares your concerns.
    It doesn’t work for everyone, but I find that engaging wholly in something helps. I cannot fix the cops or the economy–but I can grow the best garden vegetables in my power, and enjoy them, can them and share them. I can plant flowers that will bring cheer to me, year after year. Little things. This is what keeps my demons at bay.

    Like

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