July was the last time I was here?

Time flies (avoiding clichés as ever) and I’m not sure how July turned into the middle of September, but it did. Oh well, onwards…

We had a wet two days of proper ‘putting up your tent’ camping in the Lake District after which we gave up and headed to Wales where we had a great night’s stay in a camping pod somewhere in the wilderness. Well, there was a quirky local supermarket nearby that sold everything you might never need. And pickled gherkins, which after 30 years of despising I have finally come to quite like…

And then we gave up and came back to Glasgow and spent the remaining two weeks of summer holidaying with long lie-ins and general laziness. It wasn’t too bad…

Whilst we were faffing about trying to get a mobile signal at the square in the middle of Keswick, after just ‘enjoying’ a pretty awful meal in a pretty awful pub, I got a message from a friend suggesting I write a short piece to submit for an forthcoming anthology. I wasn’t sure whether it was the food I’d just eaten or the idea within the message, but my stomach was doing strange things…

I can’t say much because there’s a staunch feeling in my stomach that, until I have a copy of the finished anthology in my hands, the piece won’t be up to scratch in time. I’m quite willing to admit, I’m just not ready.

Nicholas and myself had a wee drive on Sunday, just towards the Trossachs and then back home and we had quite an in-depth discussion about the whole process involved behind getting this piece ‘sorted’, my writing frustrations and inability to hit that nail on the head with the medium of words…

“Imagine someone puts a baby in the drivers’ seat of a car. That someone is sitting in the passenger seat and they want the baby to drive them from A to B. They point out the pedals to the baby repetitively, but the baby just sits there and gurgles, sucks its thumb, starts crying. No matter how much that person points at those pedals, the baby’s legs just aren’t long enough to reach them, not yet.”

“It’s like a baby, your baby. And a cosmetic surgeon comes and takes the baby away. Then it chops the baby’s head off and sticks it on the body of a spider. And you’re left with Spider Baby.”

All my frustrations lifted away with a nicely thrown in ‘Father Ted’ reference! 😉

Writing aside, my brain has been mostly somewhere else. Mostly London. Mostly with my mum.
On a day to day basis I think about skipping work, walking into Glasgow Central and jumping the train down south to see her. I miss her a lot. It felt strange to say those words to one of my colleagues, it sounded like a five year old, “I miss my mum.”

“I haven’t spoken to her since we were last down in London. I just can’t bear seeing her like this…”  There was a lump in my throat, my colleague though was gratefully sensitive about it. “People deal with these things in different ways, it’s hard.”

I miss the mum I had. I miss the mum I never had. It’s complicated, but families are. “One day I’ll write about it…” I tell myself weekly. One day? Make that a good few years worth of dedicated time spent typing!

Work, writing, eating, coffee shops, my new geeky eBay venture into vintage hi-fi refurbishing (which is taking huge amounts of time!) are all distractions to a degree, either from each other, or something else all together. But I know that’s just what humans do. Isn’t it?

I missed the last bus that would get me in on time this morning so started the trek to the train station. At the bridge over the canal I stopped.

It was a strange feeling of calm as I stood there. The early train pulling into the station, I took out my phone and took a photo. Took a deep breath and carried on. The next train would still get me in with twenty minutes to spare anyway. It was one of those moments that makes you stop and remember ‘There is beauty out there…”

Well, enough beauty and breathing, I shouldn’t spend too much time here… I have some editing to get on with! 😉