PRESENT DAY SNIPPET: EARLY APRIL THOUGHTS

Plugging along at life: boring adult things, kombucha, celebrating my friends, reading books, trying to make the cat happy

My father died almost two months ago. Life is quite literally and figuratively not the same (who else hates when people use ‘literally’ the wrong way?). But as I have no choice, I’m learning to live with it. My sister (and our husbands) and I finally finished clearing Dad’s house – and we are saying goodbye to that chapter of our lives. 18 years for me and 20 years for Jae of visiting that cottage in the hillside on ‘The Grove.’ And almost 8 years for Michael and over 12 years for Rob. The end of an era. Thank goodness we had a last hurrah on New Year’s Eve as a family. 

I’ll miss seeing my Dad in his chair. I’ll miss his hugs and his smile as he saw me walking through the door. What am I saying? I missed all of those things when he was in hospital already, living the last moments of his life trapped in himself. 

I feel for all of those who have to live with deep grief. The shock of two deaths this year already has been difficult, to say the least. I’m adapting to a new normal. I miss my Dad every day but I’m finding equilibrium.

PRESENT DAY SNIPPET: MEMORIES OF MY FATHER

PRESENT DAY SNIPPET: A TRIBUTE IN MEMORIAM OF DEREK LEYLAND, A TRUE GENTLEMAN AND LOCAL LEGEND

Grammy update

I announced in this post (below) back in November that Grammy was in the process of buying a cottage near me. Unfortunately, that fell through – as have another couple of attempts at purchases – to poor Grammy’s dismay (and the cost of all the surveys). It’s been a stressful process and she’s still searching for a house closer to her grandchildren. It’s all been a bit of a nightmare but let’s hope she finds somewhere soon.

PRESENT DAY SNIPPET: NOVEMBER 2023

On writing again

I’ve scheduled the last few posts in advance (up to post #52). I took time to build them and hit schedule and it’s even a surprise to me these days when they are published. I wrote most of that material in January. 

I had been so sad and unmotivated that I haven’t found my usual relish to get back to writing but I’ve written a little this week which feels like progress, however small. I’m not writing daily yet but a little is more than barely being able to get out of bed. And now I’ve written this post too!  

I have had five ‘serious’(ish) boyfriends in my life – High School Sweetheart (HSS), the Stella Adler Academy Actor (Dorian), Captain Thor, my first husband, and now Michael. I say serious ish because Dorian and Captain Thor weren’t serious about me. Posts about the latter three yet to come.

This week, I began writing my series of posts about Captain Thor. I’ve written two and planned out a few more. I’m really trying to write shorter – eek. I only have a few readers who give me active feedback so I have no idea what people prefer (please let me know). 

I discovered a new writer this week called

Marjorie Apple

and she has this piece here about trying to ‘write short.’ Of course, writing short and precise is a talent, isn’t it? I’m working on mastery. Or maybe as an editor (by day job) I should ‘kill my darlings’ more and just pare back continually. 

Long or Short

It’s tough to revisit some of these times and emotions. Ultimately, though, I think it’ll be healing. Writing about it is like therapy, expunging deeply buried memories. I feel sad for past me for all the wisdom she hadn’t yet gained, all the ways she allowed herself to be treated. 

Those who knew me 10-15 years ago wouldn’t recognise Series 2 Elaine (or Lainey as close family, family friends, and my husband call me) or am I now on Series 4 or 5? My life ethos, income bracket, job, confidence, everything is different. I’m more secure, happier, and complete in ways I never was in my twenties. All of which has allowed me to focus on this little side hustle dream which at first was my freelance portfolio and now is my Substack. And I hope, eventually, will lead to writing a novel. Then, trying to get published.

On boring adult-y thingies

So I saw this advert for this UK company called Must Have Ideas and they sell this brilliant stuff called ‘Mould Magic.’ No amount of scrubbing, bleach, whatever (my amazing cleaner) was fixing a tiny mould problem around our clawfoot tub that sits against the bathroom wall (we have one of those corner versions) so I tried out this stuff and it really does work. 

For fear of sounding like an infomercial, I’m thrilled. Should I now become like Mrs Hinch and be sponsored by practical cleaning products? (I wish! And I haven’t checked on her in a while so hopefully she’s not cancelled.) 

I am the opposite of a domestic goddess but who doesn’t like clean spaces? And how boring have I become in middle-aged that this legitimately thrilled me yesterday and I asked Michael to pour praise on me for my brilliance at buying this product. He gave me one of his ‘Michael faces’ which is sort of like shaking his head and looking sort of bemused at the woman he married. 

The cat, Kit Kat, my Dad’s cat

Michael and I took on my Dad’s beloved cat, Kit Kat. Sometimes he loves us and sometimes we are his annoying roommates that he disdainfully tolerates. He’s stopped waking me up at 5 am, 6 am, and 2.52 am for cuddles and head kisses, so I’ve surely pissed him off somehow. He only accepts food scraps from Michael’s plate, not mine – I must be seen by him as inherently untrustworthy. He spends 99% of his time in my attic bedroom window staring lustfully at the great outdoors in which he used to be allowed to roam.

Something strange has happened to Michael and I as we become “cat parents.” We have accepted that our carpet and furniture will be decorated by a few scratches (I mean he’s not too bad but he’s had a bit of a tickle at the arm of the settee and my attic carpet) and that everything we own will be covered in far too much cat hair (which is a battle to clean up and control).

Michael has spent an inordinate time researching cat litter – he went with corn. By ‘inordinate time,’ I’m sparing everyone the details of how intensely Michael researches things… He has also decided that Kit Kat needs a smorgasbord of food to try and we are delighted when he gobbles up a whole packet of something. We also talk about the number of wees he does (how can he produce so much?) and when he does a poo. 

Michael has also taken to giving him cat licky treat things that smell vile, clotted cream (what budget is this cat on anyway?), cat pâté, human pâté (for human consumption not made of people – it’s not Cloud Atlas), salmon skin, smoked salmon, tins of tuna. We live to please this cat. When I expressed that our lounge now looks ‘an absolute shocking mess’ my husband retorted, ‘You can’t have nice things with pets or children.’ This is our life now. 

Shitting kombucha

In other news, I have an adorable nutritionist, David, who has me drinking fruit-flavoured kombucha.

I joked to David that I need a second mortgage to afford to drink kombucha as these are over £1.40 per can per day. It’s a tiny drink? I didn’t sign up to spend £45/month on drinks. I don’t even drink wine or vodka that often these days.

I never thought it’d come to this. I thought kombucha was only reserved for my beautiful friend, Marie, who is entirely too healthy (jokes) and I’m now shitting far more often than I’d like. Would drinking vodka each day have the same ‘gut impact’?

David assures me that this is what ‘proper digestion’ should feel like. I think it’s entirely too time-consuming. I already always drank 2-3 litres of water per day so my digestion was probably okay, surely? And I’ve already been mad enough that I make my own homemade sauerkraut a few times per year and eat a tablespoon per day. My current batch should last me another month at least.

I love that David is under 25 – I can’t recall how old he is but around baby sister Hannah’s age – but he’s so positive and gives me lots of praise for wins and is gentle about my failures. Everyone needs that sort of person in their life.

He amuses me and gently jokes that my phone call with him is my fave of the week despite the fact I’m always rescheduling and/or late to the calls (sorry! Not usually like me but recent depression and I hate phone calls – as cousin Pam knows).

With all this extra fibre, protein, and gut-healthy bacteria, I am feeling better. Plus, with my treadmill desk, enforced workouts, and stretching – and eventually, to conquer my pre-sleep doom-scrolling and sleep more – I’ll be a complete person, especially when I finish writing my past stories (on here) and start seeing my therapist again. 

Plug for my friends (not that they asked)

If you’re local to West Yorkshire, get an amazing facial, reiki, cosmic healing, etc from my friend, Marie, here. I swear after I get a facial I feel incredibly relaxed and rejuvenated. 

And for laser treatments, botox, and the like, I have another gorgeous beauty industry friend, Ruth. She started her own podcast recently all about issues that face menopausal women. The first episode features actress Lisa Allen. Allen was in this series called Passenger which was filmed near my Dad’s house.

It’s funny to see the Old Library as a ‘police station’ which is also where we used to have our Saturday morning breakfasts with Dad because they did both a ‘vegan’ and ‘meaty’ breakfast for a steal. I miss the ladies who ran the cafe too, but that all closed down during COVID-19 times.

On reading

I’ve read 25 books this year. I generally try and read 50-60 books per year. 

My beautiful friend from uni days, Kate, has read 35 so far and she has a full-time teaching job, two children, and a husband – and she is also an artist, writer, and poet. How does she do it? 

What did I read this week?

• PD James, A Certain Justice (Adam Dalgliest #10) (also a series I want to finish – think four books left now)

• Dolly Alderton, Good Material (can I get enough Dolly? Love her work!)

• Dolly Alderton, Ghosts (loving her and should finish by Sunday)

At the beginning of this year, I also made it through all of Jojo Moyes’ novels. I think there are fourteen and I was determined to read them all eventually. I discovered her around 2015 and have loved her ever since. I say ‘made it through’ as if I didn’t race through the books to find out the oh-so-lovely endings. I’ve also read all but one of her short stories. I watched her BBC Maestro course on writing romance novels too. I think those who know about her work rate her highly (thankfully) but within the ‘wider literary’ world women’s fiction writers are often underrated. Moyes writes page-turners that tackle real, serious life issues (like Marian Keyes) and they are funny, charming, and beautifully written. What’s not to love? 

Back when I was doing my BA and MA in literature, I was a little ‘snobby’ about this sort of fiction until I started reading it and/or found that it was a total ‘guilty pleasure’ that I couldn’t tell my other ‘literary’ friends about but now I proudly say how much I love a rom-com and women’s lit. And if I ever do get around to writing my own novel, I hope I can write half as well. 

I have two more posts coming up next week. One about the dashing Captain Cotillion and the other about the Air Force Guy who almost ruined my first marriage – well, certainly caused tension. And no, infidelity was not involved. 

If you’re new, start your journey here. 

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