Unknowingly, I told a lie

God's plans are not my plans, no Sir, no Mam. I learn this more and more over time. Just a few days ago, I wrote a post titled: 'On having a dirty house and why I won't clean up the crumbs, no matter who is visiting.' So there, right there in the title, I lied. And yet, just a few days ago I sincerely meant each and every word I wrote. It's what's so temperamental about me and perhaps you, perhaps all of us? So much is about 'that' very moment, the present, the now. On Friday, I returned home from work to find two brothers (my sons) fighting. It was unclear if fists had been raised or if just words had been thrown like punches but the younger of the two was on the floor sobbing. I immediately set to work, like Columbo, trying to find the trail to solve the crime. I had my most serious 'mum voice' on when I heard the key opening the door and my husband tentatively shouting, 'Hi, I've got Harry with me.' My first thought 'Oh no, not again! The last time we saw Harry, the kids had to be told off!' Then my next thought was, 'But it's Friday!' - the house is at its dirtiest on Friday because I clean at the weekend. So, I swallowed my pride thinking how proud I was and am of the new me that refuses to get bogged down in futile, petty details. Our home is 'homely' I said to myself and continued on with life. Then, later that night, I got a message from my husband just before midnight saying that our friend (who he was out with) had missed his last train home and would be heading back home with him and would be sleeping over. Already tucked up in bed and slowly drifting off, I leapt out of bed and began 'the clean'. I cleaned the bathroom, made a makeshift bed on our not very recently vacuumed sitting room floor, changed pillow cases and found extra blankets and returned to bed, smelling of cleaning products and feeling ever so slightly like a fraud. Well, crumbs are annoying and no one wants to willingly revel in crumbs surely?

One thing that I did learn is this: Friendship and kinship and relationship does genuinely surpass the embarrassment of crumbs. Watching my sons engaging with Harry (a close friend of their fathers) a man full of rich experience, a gifted musician and educator, an actor and teller of great stories. The boys deeply entranced by his knowledge and his sharing of facts, by his charm and their not quite knowing what are truths or half truths, just about able to keep up with his quick wit and cleverness with words. The morning after brought more delight in the form of conversations over teas and coffees, the thirteen year old playing guitar for a seasoned pro and receiving feedback that I can only imagine, will stay with him forever. Later in the day, before lunch, we all piled into the car and drove Harry back home to Leamington. He entertained us the whole journey and even when traffic slowed us, his running commentary on the pedestrian carrying an umbrella and walking just ahead of our car, kept us giggling for a good while and again later on when we spoke of it once more. When we arrived at Harry's home, he nervously invited us in. I was delighted. I am not alone. Others worry about their crumbs too. Harry's home was perfect. Spectacular. Filled with all of the vibrancy and range and brilliance and precision and extrovertedness that is Harry. 'Your flat describes you, without you having to' I told him. It reminded me of one of my favourite books 'Paris Interiors' that featured the homes of many creatives. It the home I dream of for myself when I think of the self without a husband or children. I think I made my husband a little sad when I described this but it isn't meaning to be so. Just that idea of a place to be that inspires and nurtured, surrounded by books and music and plants and photographs and vinyl and candles and more books. A haven. A place to be. It is a wonderful thing to have friends to share with your children. It is a privilege for them to learn from the experience of others, others that are other than their parents too. It was a delight to watch Harry doing what Harry does, with all the flair and nuance and cleverness with just a dash of cheekiness, just like a musician. My youngest wants to play trumpet now, 'just like Harry'. Don't we all. Don't we all. 

A little of this week

Meeting up with old friends. You know the kind of meeting that you keep secret from your little one because you know the excitement will wake them up at 5.50am like the last piece of exciting news did that I revealed all too soon. Well meeting up with these friends generated that kind of uncontainable energy, unstoppable joy! Whilst two mama's tried their hardest to catch up on news and reminisce about old baby days, there were four now not so little people stirring up a storm. They nearly drove two mama's crazy, some cafe staff too but nothing could deter them, they were out for a good time and they had a ball! 

Keeping on finding myself smiling at my plant that is flowering again. A gift from a friend that makes me think of her daily, especially since bright red starry eyes flash their smiles at me when I come downstairs to greet them each morning. On that note I made a discovery too of the prettiest little beauty spot on a walk I took this week. Well, it was a re-discovery since it was a spot that me and the youngest boy used to frequent through wind and sleet and sun and snow. This week though an old dear of a tree heavy with bursting blossom had my full attention, the air was thick with a yummy scent of spring and some old steps persuaded me to pine for summers days spent in Oxford as a newlywed many moons ago. 

Deciding to try and finish what I started, I wandered back to the girl I began painting a few weeks ago. She started out as an exercise in familiarising myself with drawing brown people, in particular brown women since I am one myself. In fact it was because of her that I struck up a friendship with another brown woman, this one, a lovely lady named Frances all the way from Fiji. She commented on my Instagram feed and helped me to think that this painting lark was worth pursuing. She also told me the name of the flower worn in the hair - 'tekiteki', how beautiful is that! Today I added a background, I was feeling inspired by Tapa - Barkcloth paintings from the Pacific. There is a wonderful exhibition of these barkcloth paintings currently on show at the Ikon Gallery, it's well worth the trip!