One day, last August, I switched my computer on and found that something had changed. I suddenly realised that I was craving silence, with an intensity that startled me. I'd become increasingly less tolerant of the tumult of the web (blogs! Twitter! news sites!) and had to step back for a little while, otherwise I might lose my balance altogether.
I needed quiet not only around me, but also from myself. There's so much noise out there — too much noise already for me to wish to add to it.
I closed those tabs and windows there and then. I cleared my feed reader of all but the few blogs where I feel at home. I turned down the volume. Thus far, it's been wonderful.
I've stopped feeling the need to keep up with the world. I don't have any urge to be informed of everything that's happening on this mad planet of ours.
I don't know if or when I'll return to this little corner of the web, but for the moment, there's somewhere else my head would rather be.
So what's up with me? I'm well, and so is Rebus, who is currently on a diet (on his vet's recommendation). I'm spending much of my time thinking, cooking, listening to a few radio programmes, making my apartment more of a home at long last. Yes, I've kept up with my Women Writers Reading Group commitment to read and purchase only books written by women this year, but am looking forward to reading O'Brian and Dickens and Thackeray and Trollope and Lamb and Balzac soon... I'm also corresponding with a few lovely people I first got to know online; I'd forgotten what a joy it is to receive a real letter in my physical mailbox, to hold the envelope in my hands, to choose which ink and stamp to use in my reply.
It's still a little early, but I'm told it's better than being late... so here goes:
I wish you happy end-of-year festivities, filled with all of the good things you deserve!
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
Saturday, 27 July 2013
Earlier this week, I did a double-take when I saw the note for today's date in my day planner:
adoption Rebus (2007)
Has it really been 6 years already since this "baby picture"?
I still remember your desperate howls while we drove back to my apartment from the shelter, your confident strut as you exited the transport cage and explored every bit of your new home like you'd forgotten the entire traumatic experience, and your first nap sprawled behind the toilet on that hot summer afternoon.
Thank you for 6 wonderful, surprising, challenging, love-filled years. Thank you for changing my life.