Hard times…

…I’ve been having some pretty terrible ones. While also studying archaeology, working in a pub, playing some professional soul, and while Banjo has been hibernating through the long hard winter of my soul in the erstwhile airing cupboard.

And then I’ve been having some more, while I’ve been planning my wedding to the most wonderful man in the world, and cuddling my sweet sweet dog, and being broke and unemployed, and while watching silly TV shows, and making new friends in survival mode, and doing a terrible job of keeping in touch with my old and so-beloved ones (but thank you!! so much!! for bearing with me with your tremendous and tangible love!!).

And then having some more, while feeling betrayed about the Middle East and climate change and the economy and our fuck of a government, and  furiously angry with the NHS and my poor battered self-confidence, while doing meditation retreats and being on the wrong medicine and accidentally buying a letterpress printing machine, and while making chutney in my little wooden house for the likes of you and me.

As hard times go, they have been long, and extremely tiring, and desperately lonely. But I feel like it is going to be ok again soon, because Michael is buying me those wall-mounted guitar hook thingummies for Christmas, so that Banjo and friends can come out of hibernation. And so should you, Enid Steals.


2 thoughts on “Hard times…

  1. That was well nice. (I love the way you write; in this case, how you curl meaning, and how familiar it feels being inside your prose). Do it again. It must be so. And please, let’s hear about that bloody cheeky ape of an elf, what’s his name..? You know, one of your alter-egos… The one that breaks shit and gets away with it, kind of.
    But I wonder, if I was to write to you about myself here, would it be wrong? I mean, it being your blog and everything… I feel like a novice when I write in these boxes online. I’m never sure about propriety on the internet – i.e. who’s turn it is, how much to take, that kind of thing. Well, you’ll tell me if you don’t like my blogging, right?
    Enid, Merry Christmas, and keep loving the lovely bits, of which there are many stuffed into the passages above. A toast to love and pets! xxxx

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