Far away from the cold night air, or, everything old is new again.
This song from ‘My Fair Lady’ keeps running through my head: ‘All I want is a room somewhere’.
Like Eliza Doolittle, all I need is a cosy place with chocolates on tap and a comfy couch where I can think grand thoughts and render scribble into scintillating prose. But my granddaughters get in the way of my success. They visit me every school holidays and insist on my full attention.
Even though I no longer remember her name, my role model is a 19th Century housewife / novelist who single-handedly raised 9 children yet managed to write several novels. I let my subconscious do the walking while my girls and I bond and do giggly girlie things. We watch chic flicks, bake, catch up on family affairs and paint each other’s nails. Being the mother of sons who refused to cooperate when I wanted to paint their nails, I look forward to my darlings’ visit each quarter but I am equally happy now to hop back into the ninety-nine percent perspiration part of my writing routine.
That perfect bit of prose isn’t going to blossom on its own. It needs the personal touch. Now that I’m free I can take a notebook and a bunch of biros with me to the local café and write my socks off like Simone de Beauvoir and her partner and fellow existentialist John Paul Sartre, or I perhaps I could sit on the beach with a cask of wine for me and a loaf of bread for the seagulls.
There’s fourteen days’ worth of ideas to choose from now. Or I can get back to an elderly story about murder at a bodice ripper book convention, or the one about mistresses galore that has been gathering dust the bottom drawer for so long it has developed asthma.
‘Far away from the cold night air,’ the cold night air, the cold night air.
That song is running round and round in my head and won’t let go. I dig deeper into my box of chocolates in order to winkle out that inspiration.
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Personally? I’d go for the beach and the wine. Thanks for visiting my blog!
These days so would I, especially the wine. But right now it’s Winter where I am. 🙃
We should all have a chocolate box ready at hand. We need moments away from kids and definitely moments with. No?
I couldn’t possibly have a chocolate box ready at hand, Otto, I’d be getting stuck into it before you could say, chocaholic. 🙂
I hope you have had some creative times and a few more moments with you grandchildren…making memories for them that they will perhaps write about someday.
Just the memories, Karen. I’m not doing much in the way of writing these days. 💕
Existentialism sounds like wishful thinking and once, I took my daughter to the hardware forgetting she had painted my nails, hand and foot. The checkout lady raised an eyebrow.
So, what colour was the nail polish? It’s comments like that, that give you away. You are a fabulous person. Glad to know you.
I don’t remember the colour Mary, only that I hadn’t anticipated a necessary trip (with nail polish). My daughter thought it funny at the time. As for being fabulous, I’ll now suffer from bumps on my head trying to fit through the doorway. Glad to know you too Mary.
🙃
It’s wonderful having the kids and wonderful having your space again! Lovely post.xxx
You say such nice things. Thanks so much. 🙃
Chocolate box is an excellent way of getting inspiration! 🙂
Actually a box of chocolates tends to inspire me to have more. Ferraro Rochere most recently.
lol Ferraro Rochere can also be a name of your next character – sweet and handsome, with some rough edges! 🙂
Mocha and Fererro. I sense a bodice ripper coming on. 🙃 You cutie.
🙂