I hate winter

I really do. I hate the grey skies and the lack of light. I don't remember hating it when I was a kid but I certainly hate it now. This morning there was a story on the news about Britain not being so bad weather wise. I believe it was a story about tourism but Matthew and I were too busy mocking it to really pay attention. 'Britain not as bad as you though. Bring your umbrella. We're sorry. More tea?' or something to that effect anyway.

Matt tolerates me in winter, I really am lucky that I have him and that he loves me and can deal with my melancholy nature, slips into depression, and general hatred for humanity.

Well that last one he shares with me so we are pretty much well matched, save for me being slightly more evil and him being much more happy go lucky that I have ever been. Harrison loves the winter but he is eight and snow is magic, even two inches of snow that barely lasted a week and more icy slush and black ice more days than there was snow worth playing with.

I haven't been blogging or on the Internet much lately mostly bundled up under blankets reading books and fic and watching terrible (the good sort of terrible) movies and too much tv. I am hibernating... or a hermit. Probably the latter. I have finally started crafting again, in fact I finished making a doll just yesterday but she doesn't have a story just yet, though I'm pretty sure she hates the winter as much as I do.

So I'm here sat by the fire with a stack of books and magazines to read, an unnamed doll who is begging for a story and a little grey cat purring at me. I think I hear the coffee machine calling my name in the quite while Harrison is playing in his room destroying everything I spent the day tidying up. I may hate winter but I'm feeling better than I have in months, the magic of a happy eight year old and rediscovering my crafting muse.

break: here be whining

hey everybody sorry I haven't blogged in forever but I took a break from blogging and the internets. Shocking I know but I needed some time to myself to sit and read, listen to random music on my ipod, read a bit more, sulk a bit and feel a bit homesick for the states. Autumn is my favourite time of year.... but not here. I have lived in England for 11 years and still sometimes I feel like an utter fraud. I can casually talk about the weather for about 30 seconds before my mind wanders off and I desperately wish to shoot myself in the head with an overly dramatic finger gun. I am utterly abysmal at small talk anyway so usually attempt to avoid it at all costs when on the school run. Thankfully I'm quiet and shy and only a few friendly parents talk to me anyway.

I have always been reserved and have a tendency to withdraw into myself for a bit, fall into an out of the puddles, lakes and oceans of depression. I'm ok just a bit down, I miss my parents. I miss the dogs. I miss the states at this time of year. I miss Idaho and California. I miss the autumn festivities of being in the states surrounded by autumn leaves, pumpkin spice lattes (I don't drink them I just like the idea of them), pumpkins, pie and just all things Americana.

This is my time of year, I really don't give a damn for winter and Christmas, Matt says that's because I'm a Grinch. I just say it's because I hate 98% of Christmas music. I adore Halloween, I always have, and Day of the Dead is pretty damn awesome too. I hate that the schools here don't do anything fun and Halloween related. Halloween is pretty much a bust anyway, maybe in another 5 or 10 years they will get it right. Maybe not.

I have so many things ticking over in my brain and I have taken the last few weeks to just curl up read books, magazines, fan fiction, and even plot out a few broken fairy tales of my own here and there. I am fine. See I said it so it must be true, it's just sometimes hard to remotely attempt to be vaguely perfect. Not that I am anywhere near perfect, if I was I wouldn't be this fat, this grumpy or this hard on myself for every little thing I think is something I am or have done wrong.

I have never been a bubbly blonde, my roots are very very dark but the last few weeks of having a break and having a week away down in Dorset have settled my mind a bit. I do love England and Dorset is beautiful though I did find myself feeling just a little heartbroken on the beach missing the Pacific ocean just north of Bodega Bay in California. I did find some pretty pebbles to bring home with me so that's all good right?

I find it strange that I have barely been on the internets for weeks on end and not done any blogging and here I am having a cathartic whine about nothing and everything.

I really think I need coffee.

And to work on some blog posts of a crafty nature.

I shall go bumble into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and see about working on something creative this afternoon while H is at his grandma's house.

Also I may need cake. Good thing there is some leftover from H's 8th birthday party. Yup my little boy is the grand old age of eight. He is still brilliant and sweet and an utterly charming, wild, loud, imaginative and excitable kid.

I'm ok and I'm happy but sometimes, sometimes I need to curl up and hide inside my head. I'm going to go put my ipod on and shuffle the laundry along and think a bit more.

Your regularly scheduled blogging shall hopefully resume soon.