Week two of recuperating, flowers and floating in the ocean

Welcome to my new readers. Thanks for coming on the ride with my musings. 

Image of a postcard I made for an exhibition in 2007. The words read: I might just drift out to sea

Since having my knee arthroscopy, I feel like I've been under house arrest for the last two and a half weeks. I have only been able to go as far as I can walk and the furthest that has been is down to my local shops and back (a walk from which I needed to recover over a number of hours). None of this feeling of being caged was helped with last weekend, Melbourne going into a snap Stage 4 COVID restriction for five days. Finally on Thursday this week, I begged my hubby to take me for a drive to the beach after he finished work. It was glorious on all accounts. The weather reminded me of our days in Broome with the sun setting over the water and air so warm it's soft on my skin. I lay in that water and let the ocean take all the pain and stress from me. I am happiest when I am floating in the ocean. 

Image: Sunset at Williamstown Beach
 

I am healing, it is slow, but it is progress. Of course, I wish it was faster but I am an impatient person on the whole. My days are filled with working on my exercises, eating, drinking and resting. I may have finally hit that point where I'm ready to go back to work!
 

Image: Plum sauce and kind words

I heard a well-respected RMIT teacher passing away last week and it shifted something inside me that was uncomfortable. She was a tough teacher who never dished out praise for the sake of it. I watched others receive her praise for their work and waited, wished, for her praise. I never received it. I had her as a teacher the year my mum was dying and died of cancer, the same year my eldest was diagnosed with anorexia. It was an excruciating year for me and I had hoped that at least my writing might shine through this time. Her criticism stung at the time. Her passing brought up all those feelings in me about my lack of skills in writing. One morning this week I wrote in my daily pages that maybe I should give it away (while at the same time loving the voice that I have found in my manuscript). Yesterday, a friend who I don't see very often dropped by with a jar of plum sauce and a card. She wanted to thank me for my words and to say that they have helped her over the last year. The lessons in this? I don't really know other than keep going. Believe in yourself. Work at your craft. Either way, my friend's visit couldn't have come at a better time. I may always feel like a fraud at this writing game, but I know many others do too. My writing is not going to be for everyone, but if it touches one person, it is worth it. I don't really have a choice other than to keep writing. That is what I know to do and I know I must do - even if no one else reads it. 

Ways I have filled my time while resting and recuperating:

1. Hanging out with my pot plants. Dealing with the fungus gnats, putting in plant supports and finding the right spots for them

2. Scrolling through Instagram for things to distract me. Check out @beachton on Instagram for some fab nature content

3. Online shopping. After a break from my 2020 COVID online shopping, I'm back. I think I might be one of those who find it hard to go back into stores for shopping, unless they are very local. I find it so much easier to do it online. It's quick. I find and buy want I want. It arrives. I've found Melbourne Bush Foods for some plants, gift vouchers and chocolate; Rollie Nation for some sneakers to see me through my many days on my feet while healing the knee and protecting the inflamed bone in my foot; earrings from Oscar and Matilda (did I really need more?); wool for a beanie for hubby and cotton for a jumper for myself; plant stuff from Bunnings.

4. Built a model of what our house will be when we finally get around to doing the renovation

5. Read books that keep teaching me bout the treatment of the First Nations People and Australian Racism including Ghost Bird by Lisa Fuller (young adult fiction story that left me reeling with its spookiness and reality of Australian racism - highly recommend); Metal Fish, Falling Snow by Cath Moore (young adult fiction great neurodivergent voice and, again, the reality of Australian racism); The Cherry-Picker's Daughter by Kerry Reed-Gilbert (a memoir on the stolen generation and love); Too Afraid to Cry by Ali Cobby Eckermann (a poetic memoir on stolen generation, love and loss); Animals That Make Us Human edited by Meg Kenneally and Leah Kaminsky (an anthology written post the 2019/2020 fires to raise funds for the Australian Marine Conservation Society and Australian Wildlife Conservancy); White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad (hard by important read).

6. Watched (too much) Netflix including Money Heist, The Casketeers (love this so much for the tenderness they show to the dead), Sense8. And some Stan: Bump, Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist

7. Knitted a baby blanket to send to England and am knitting a cowl for myself

8. Stopped drinking alcohol. I had started February with the no-drinking idea as I realised that I had had a drink (or two) almost every day in January. Come the first weekend of Feb, and I didn't say no when I was asked if I wanted a drink. It's not that I drink a lot, but I do drink. Most days. And find it hard to say no. So after celebrating Shrove Tuesday with a pile of crepes, I decided I would spend Lent alcohol free. Hoping to reap the health benefits. It's only the fourth day in, so can't say one way or another, but I did do a Friday evening without a drink, which is unusual

9. Writing. I've written the next chapter and begun another. This one's in the daughter's voice. I love her sassiness

10. Had visitors who came bearing gifts of conversation, flowers and plum sauce

Today has been a slump day. A big migraine stopped me from doing all the things I love to do. I'm learning to roll with it and be kind to myself. I hope you have the space for kindness to yourself this week 

x Meg