Tuesday 22nd March 2022 – Tears, a List and Priorities

Two little doggies with pixie-cuts - Kerry is the one with the resting bitch face.

I am trying to write a happy blog, but everything comes out all sad now. How can I laugh and smile when people are being bombed?

Every night when I go to bed, I lie in the dark listening to the girls breathing slowly, in and out, grateful for their presence and I weep as I think of the war.

Every morning I wake up and relive the dreams from the night before. They play like one of those old scratchy newsreels in black and white that depict the horrors of war. It should be from a time long ago that can’t touch you now, but it is touching us now. Perhaps I should stop watching the news and just watch videos of fluffy kittens or cute puppies with eyes of liquid amber. I could do that and convince myself that the world is ok. But to do that would deny the suffering that is going on.

It is hard to be happy in the current climate and yet it is spring, and the trees are gently coating in green, and we have had some rain recently, which is hope. Gonzalo must be very happy—I have not bumped into him in a while, I think he has other parks which he walks in with Lijo.

The girls went to the groomer today to get their spring haircuts. Their skin is getting more tender with age, and they have various lumps, bumps and skin tags, some of them bleed occasionally. I pointed out the worst lumps to Jazmin, so that she might not nick them and asked her to cut rather than brush out the dreadlocks instead so as not to hurt the girls any more than necessary. She is very kind with them. They have come back with punky little haircuts and pointy ears. I think they look lovely, and they will be much easier to keep clean.

While they were out, I had a shower—that’s right, a full shower, not just tops and tails, I washed my hair and got water all over the bathroom floor—it always goes everywhere. I have yet to redo the bathroom, it is overwhelmingly grey and there is a washing machine right beside the bathtub, which is very un-feng shui. Actually, everything is in the wrong place and the wrong colour, but I doubt I will ever have enough money to do a complete overhaul, so I am thinking about how I can do something to make the room more user-friendly without spending a fortune.

First of all, I need to move the washing machine out to the patio. It will happen, but somehow it is not on my list of priorities. But now I think of it, what is on my list of priorities? I’m not quite sure. I certainly need to replace the windows and doors.

In the winter, especially on a windy day, the wind leaks in around the old metal patio door off the bathroom and the louvred window might as well be wide open. The air pours down the stairs and through the house, stealing the heat which it takes with it as it squeezes out through the leaky metal front door. Of course, now it is spring the robbing wind will soon be forgotten until next November and the first cold creeping.

As well as conserving heat, double glazing will make an enormous difference to the sound insulation. Living in a city there can be a lot of noise, from children with footballs to lorries and garbage trucks. The neighbours can be very noisy too—some Saturdays the boys arrive with their Harleys, Yamahas and Suzukis – beautiful bikes and in tip-top condition. The ‘boys’ are all in their 50s and 60s I might add. We have a lot of motorbikes in our street, and I feel quite honoured when they are all lined up outside my front door with their matching panniers, polished seats and leather handlebar tassels. Looki-dog used to like looking at them in the summertime. I think he liked hanging with the boys.

The boys can spend hours with spanners and wrenches, taking bits of their bikes apart and tightening everything and putting it all back together again. They talk loudly, share some smokes and perhaps a small bottle of San Miguel. Then they get back on their bikes, rev up very loudly, and drive off to God knows where. Revving up can be deafening and distracting if I am trying to teach.

So, the list grows; the bathroom, the windows, the doors, and I want to put a built-in storage cupboard in my office to hide away my little city bike and the girls’ pram.

The house is an ‘L’ shape—quite interesting—my office is the foot of the ‘L’ off the living room which now sports an American kitchen. I always wanted an American kitchen with a breakfast bar and now I do. I love my kitchen and that was a priority. Nothing else seems to be as important, so I can sit and doodle and think about which way the front door should open and whether it should be a sliding door or a swing door—one door or two?

I also lust after a 55 inch Sony Bravia OLED Smart TV—pure lust. There is one on sale at the moment in Media Markt and I am very tempted, but of course that would blow everything else out of the water and my list of priorities would be de-prioritised, but then what should my priorities be? Which is more important, comfort or entertainment?

As the list grows, I begin to feel guilty for wanting material things. But for now, life goes on here, more or less as normal, although I feel guilty that my life is good, and I wish that I could make a difference in Ukraine. As I write it has begun to rain again and the little plop, plop from the kitchen reminds me that I need to fix the leak in the roof as well.