For the past week and a half I've been on holiday and at home, away from my usual working world of Bank of England regulations, accounting standards, foreign exchange provisions and tax adjustments. I have slowed right down, rested and spent time by myself and with G and the children.
My time has been filled with small, simple things:
- Spending my evenings quilting in front of the television. I've been enjoying old Sex and the City re-runs, Paul Merton in India and the Gadget Show. Also a very spooky atmospheric DVD of The Orphanage, which I'm still not sure if I enjoyed or not.
- Raking up the cherry leaves in the back garden and feeding worms to the hens (I don't let them out of their run in the autumn, as they just head straight for the mounds of leaves and kick them everywhere in twittering exuberance).
- Taking time to do things with the children that I would normally rush through, or struggle to find time for. Things like showing O how to paint with her beautiful new Caran d'Ache coloured pencils (she keeps them lined up in colour order with the writing facing upwards, just as obsessively as I used to do several decades ago). Getting the playdoh out. Drinking cups of tea and watching Tracy Beaker with the children early(ish) in the morning while I'm still in my pyjamas.
- Wasting time playing on Yearbook Yourself. So funny - in a way that left me laughing out loud until I had tummy ache.
- Watching fat flakes of snow fall and the fireworks for Diwali go off - all in one magical evening.
I really needed this break. Sometimes you only work that out when you stop.