… I have that drowning feeling.

Faced with too many tasks, knowing I’m doing nothing well enough.

Brain can’t/won’t focus correctly.


*deep breath*

I have a list. Eight tasks is not overwhelming.
I do not have coffee. That can be fixed.

Onwards. Small steps.

All shall be done.

And if it’s not? Well – nobody will have dies because my To Do list still has unticked items on it this evening.

Yesterday evening I took all the children to a neighbours house for a garden party. The lady in question lives next-door-but-one, and a few months ago was diagnosed with MND – and given 9mths to live. She is 54. She has no husband, no children, she’s a passionate gardener, and she was a teacher at a well-known private school for many years before becoming head librarian at another local private school. She has the brightest, naughtiest smile, she walks to the shops with a wicker basket… and that’s all I really know of her. She’s lovely, but in all the years she’s lived here we’ve never really got beyond the friendly neighbours stage.

Yesterday I sat in her garden and watched as she was surrounded by old friends and pupils, who had all come together to throw a party for her. A film reel looped around the events she has been involved with through her career –  showing her countless times descending into giggles as film crews got stuck in mud, as she came up against a snake in Nepal, as she directed film productions and poked fun at young actors. As I chatted to the other guests in her garden, beyond the neighbours I knew practically every single person there was an old pupil of hers. They had come from far and wide to see her, and to thank her for making a difference to their lives.
And as I watched her sitting in her wheelchair, surrounded by so much affection and warmth, glass of wine firmly in a very chilly hand, I felt sad that i’d never got to know her better. And yet so touched that so many people had felt such affection for her.

The party went on long after we left, and I watched the 'wishes in the sky' from home after the children were all tucked up.

It was a wonderful evening, and not one I’ll forget in a hurry.

So yes. Coffee first. Then To Do list.
And while I wait for the kettle to boil I’ll step outside, breathe in the air which is heaven-fresh after last night’s rains, and just… be thankful. Not fretful.