A Day For Focusing
Here I am Wednesday morning in the studio with misty rain outside. Alan has hired a car in Greece to go and do some sightseeing, before coming back dusty and exhausted to his hotel room to rest before his meal is provided and the swimming pool beckons. I am sighing in my wooden studio in the garden, watching the rain fizz gently outside, thinking about the painting I have promised with a merry little grin, to the commissioners, while thinking it is a bit like asking Michaelangelo to Do Something With This Ceiling, You Have Two Weeks. However, as Bertie Wooster would say if he were me, "we Rollses are made of Stern Stuff." I shall go next door in a minute and just do it. Ha.
In the meantime, the 12 year old son and the 15 year old son are at war. It seems to help them both in their offensives to make me the main problem. I think they both get so het up and scream and shout and throw things and suddenly, they think "oops. Can't think what to yell about now, if I stop yelling it looks like I've lost. " So their narrowed eyes focus on me and the instinct that Mum is Always to Blame kicks in and with huge relief they continue to be Furious. I spoke for over an hour to my darling friend in Ireland last night, and thought at the end of the converstation, that perhaps life in my house here tonight is not a reflection of what is going on in every home, every bar, every office. Perhaps it will all blow over and somehow these two Visigoths will learn to live together and they will see that their mum is quite a nice person, on the whole.
However, in case you all think I am miserable, I am not. I am in control, I am a fab artist, I am a nice person and one day I will pay all my bills easily and with a flourish. Darling friend in Ireland made me feel great again, Eileen took loads of photos for my new painting because I couldn't, and did it with utter brilliance as always, Alan deserves nothing but happiness and should be very proud of himself for working so hard and supporting so many people so well. My brother is 50 today and is a very great man. One of lifes true wonders, when things are not always easy for him. And all the flowers in my pots are nodding gently at me meaning, that even if my Warrior Sons tell me I am the pits, it will pass and there are so many silent (Phew) reminders that life is good in that my garden is growning, is green and lush and colourful. And the rain is only drizzle, it means the garden will be even more wonderul and possibly more important, I can't go and lie on the hammock. Now it is time. Wish me luck.
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