Monday, July 10, 2006

Carpe Domum!

These pictures were taken yesterday afternoon - on my little phone camera, after I discovered that it was possible to leap from the hazel embankment on to the roof of the house. The view, the sense of space, is just incredible.

The images don't do it justice, and when the sun returns I will take the proper camera up there and capture the full 270 degrees of trees and sky that the brief moment of trusting everything I have learned about gravity to date has gifted.

At only six and a half stone (that's 90lbs in american and about 40kg in European) I don't need to worry too much about the impact my weight has on the surface and structure ... although I did tread very gingerly most of the time. And of course, the building's days are tragically numbered, so there is no need to consider the long term impact ... I think we will try to obtain a couple of old sun loungers off of freecycle and have it as an occasional treat through the summer.

Today, some men are digging holes in these woods around my house. A painful reminder of the clock that ticks loudly in the back of my mind.

Ruby is an expert hole digger, and so we went down to offer some assistance, and she has been with them "helping" for a few hours now. She seems to be enjoying herself, showing them the best routes around the quarry.

Anyway - we had a chat about the developer's plans and the soil type and the depth of new soil over the quarry and the trees and wildlife and badgers and woodpeckers, and their opinion was that they would be absolutely gobsmacked if the planning took less than a couple of years.

So - time to stop living as if I might be moving again any second. Time to allow myself to lay down some roots, which have been twisting out into this place against my will, but now have my full support in doing so.

Step one: mend the shower in the wet room, which is utterly fixed solid. No amount of limescale killer has made a difference, and prying it open myself has so far led to little useful information. So, I went to the Mira website, and found a customer services number, and was astounded to find myself chatting to a woman who was able to work out precisely which shower I had (a feat considering it's 25 years old) and for a bargain price one of their engineers is going to come round and have a look at it and tell us what is to be done. The spares are easy to come by, so if he thinks it can be mended then I will probably have a go myself. Though I'm a little daunted because the plumbing in this place is "unique" to be generous ...

Ok, getting a shower fixed is not a major life event, but it's the commitment to remaining here - to allowing myself to live as though I will remain here - that is so significant.

Isn't it funny how commitment can make you feel so free?


Blogger Brenda said...

90lbs! You're a mere whisp, fairy dust, an angel floating over the roof...!

I am glad you are putting roots down, even if it's only for a few years - though that could stretch, it sounds like.

Looks like a wonderful abode, the house, the shed, and now chickens, a rooftop patio (of sorts). Marvelous!

Thank you for your comments at my site, you've been very helpful- we are called out of our depths when we create an artpiece in whatever form it takes and that's a fearful process and then it takes us over and then we're high when it's finally finished!

10 July, 2006 18:29  
Blogger Mary said...

*to allowing myself to live as though I will remain here*.

Why is that phrase so moving and yet so frightening?

10 July, 2006 19:30  
Blogger Stray said...

Brenda, thanks for your supportive words,

90lbs is a pretty hefty angel for me :) Can fairy dust angels bring their skateboard with them? If so, I'm liking that new self-image.

I find I am called out of my depth with alarming regularity, though the motivation is rarely aesthetic. Being out of my depth is one thing, being out of my depth naked is quite another ... !

But yes, I think recently there has almost been some survivor-euphoria in my feelings after working through an idea ...

Mary, is it ok to be moved and frightened by the fact that you were moved and frightened?

Hmmm ... I am thinking hard about this one. The pain is so acute sometimes I feel like I am poking a deep bruise to find the exact location of the impact on the bone. I think it is the realising of how large the forces are that cannot be controlled, and how tiny the rudder for my own ship is, but that if I don't take the helm at all then there will never be a sense of moving towards, just spinning in circles.

I expect I could have a thousand different thoughts on that one and still not reach a conclusion. I think a large part though is the fear of naming fear. We can be good at pretending not to fear ... at running from it. I suspect running around here could be dangerous - far too many roots to trip over ;)

10 July, 2006 23:46  

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