One of the things about social descending and finding yourself unexpectedly a member of the nouveau pouvre is that you have to become incredibly resourceful. Actually social descending is the wrong descriptive - in many ways I am richer, more fulfilled and surrounded by nicer people than I could ever hope to include as friends and neighbours - more so than at any other stage in my life. It's just I have to be frugal where once I was extravagant.
So it is for many years now that I have cut and coloured my own hair and carried out other such essential maintenance on a maturing body e.g. waxing and facials. Goodness it's a chore though. One of the main motivations is that with advances in the efficiency of cosmetic products the passing of the years can be somewhat disguised. A second incentive is that I save over a hundred pounds a month by avoiding outside agencies and doing it myself - but I just find it all so boring. The day has come to put off no more however and as we have yet more torrential rain the time was set aside for the monthly restoration routine.
It's supposed to make you feel all uplifted and rejuvenated but for some inexplicable reason I've been swept by the most enormous tsunami of sadness and just want to cry like a baby. Must fight this. Have so much to be grateful for. Must hold on to the positive and eliminate the negative. Must keep the spirits up and not tumble into bleakness. Oh God it's hard. Maybe it's a sense of 'it's over', as I had so completely focussed on hopefully surviving Christmas with an intact family unit that it hadn't occurred to me what it would feel like afterwards. If we're very fortunate and blessed it will be more of the same and can't bear to contemplate the alternative.
So much to be thankful for, that's the prayer.
R upstairs in her room and boyfriend due for dinner. H on his way to Scotland for Hogmanay and I'm cooking bubble and squeak and apple cider sausages.
No news from abroad and another parcel sent out this afternoon with love, kisses and wishes for safe keeping.
Please keep C and everyone safe Lord.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
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