23 April 2011: ½ In, ½ Out

Coco Puffs

How long has it been since I’ve had Coco Puffs for breakfast?  Well, a lifetime really, since I’ve never had them before today.  They were okay-tasting and, of course, it turns to chocolate milk once the cereal is all gone.  After washing up the breakfast dishes, I watched some television for a little while.  I was a little bored but then decided that I needed to get some things out of the way today: laundry, shopping, etc.  I was going to take that interesting-looking walk after lunch; but for reasons that I’ll explain later, I decided against it.  It was fun trying to learn how to work the washing machine in the downstairs closet.  Thankfully, the rental company had a stack of owner’s manuals available for the appliances (which would have been handy if I’d thought to read the one for the oven as I was attempting to heat up my birthday dinner!).  Eventually, I got the laundry underway and went around tidying everything else up before leaving for the day.  I was in a very good mood as I got ready; anxious to get outside and explore some more.

Poppies and Poems

I walked up to the village green (and check it out: I didn’t have to stop to catch my breath not even ONCE on the crazy hill!) and went to find the war memorial.  It commemorates the lives of those men in the village who died in World War I and World War II.  There was a wreath of red poppies at the base as well as little crosses made with Popsicle sticks and tiny red poppies.  You might be wondering about the significance of the poppies; I’m not completely sure myself, but I believe that it stems from WWI and reminds me of a poem about Flanders Field, in the Ypres salient in Europe.  My mom read me the poem when I was a young girl.  Here it is:

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Crowded House

Today the café was very crowded but I managed to find myself a little corner table nevertheless.  I booted up my netbook and uploaded last night’s writings.  Charlotte was working again today; but was kept busy for much of the time that I was there.  So while I ate what has to be the best BLT sandwich of my life and downed some more of that excellent apple juice that I’d had previously, I people-watched.  I didn’t really feel like talking to anybody today; but it was interesting watching them regardless.  Two elderly couples came into together and ordered tea.  Some young women came in, ordered lattes (I hope I spelled that right; I never drink the stuff) and took them outside to drink.  Some children came into the shop area; I could hear them pestering their parents for ice cream cones.  I guess some things stay the same no matter where you go!  After the crowds dispersed for a little while, Charlotte came over, pulled up a chair and we chatted for a while.  She is eighteen years old and attended the primary school here in Blockley and the secondary school in Chipping Campden.  She went to South Africa last year with her ex-boyfriend and will be going again soon on her own.  I told her that I would love to travel to South Africa (oh, heck, ANY part of Africa!) someday.  She says that it is far cheaper to travel using hostels rather than hotels.  I definitely need to look into that. 

Family Feud

It got busy again and Charlotte had to get back to work, so I opened up my emails and logged onto Facebook.  Now, up to that moment, I had been having the best time in years.  I mean YEARS!  No family issues.  No work crises.  No stress.  I was sleeping soundly for the first time in nearly two months.  I was walking around, eating healthy without really paying attention (okay, except for the Coco Puffs and the Cokes), meeting new people and generally just living in the moment.  But then reality came crashing back down in the form of an argument between two people that I love very much.  Now, without getting into details, one of them emailed me just to advise me of her viewpoints and left it at that.  The other, though, well, she pretty much told me that if I didn’t convince the other person to see things her way, then I was no better and that meant she had no one at all in the family that she could trust.  Ouch.  And the more this dialogue went on, the harder it became to maintain my happy state of mind.  The café was closing up, the netbook’s battery was nearly dead and to be honest, I just wanted to go back to the cottage and hide under the blankets.  Forget the walk.  Forget seeing anything else or going anywhere else.  So I went back to the cottage (after buying some groceries for my own Easter dinner tomorrow: bacon, strawberries, cheese, orange juice and hot-crossed buns).  Once there, I put away the groceries and went upstairs to the parlor and sat there in a very bad mood.  I tried to watch TV, but got irritated by the dumb American shows again and switched it off.  What was needed here was a bath.  So I took an early bubble bath which had the effect of making me feel marginally better.  Back up to the parlor where I made multiple attempts at starting a fire in the woodstove; finally succeeding but burning my right hand pretty badly in the process.  Up to the bedroom to fetch my book and then settling on the settee to try to lose myself in someone else’s story.  And it helped to some extent.  It grew dark outside and I checked the clothes on the drying rack: nearly dry.  I remembered that a channel called “4More” was running some documentaries that night; so I tuned in for a while.  Now that they are over and done with, I’m upstairs in bed and writing again.  And I’m angry.  I’m angry that I had to be dragged, intentionally or not, into a situation and then accused of not being caring enough or loving enough because I wouldn’t step in and “fix things”.  I’m angry that someone could not or would not appreciate the fact that I am on a very well-deserved vacation that I’ve waited all of my life to take and that maybe, just maybe, I wanted to leave the everyday world with all its stress far behind for a little while.  But mostly I’m angry at myself for caving into the guilty feelings that someone knew I would be feeling and thereby sabotaging myself from enjoying what was certain to have been a really wonderful afternoon.  The lesson?  I need to harden my heart a bit.  I need to say, “You’re an adult.  Figure it out.”  I need to sometimes put my own needs first.  And I need to remember that this is MY vacation and to make the most of it.

Tomorrow: Easter Sunday