Wednesday, March 01, 2006

When the night is cold, some get by but some get old

Is it spring or isn't it? It's dark, there's snow on the ground, and I am sitting by the fire drinking whisky in a bleak premenstrual haze. So on that evidence I would side with the traditionalists and say no, there must be at least three more weeks of winter to go.

Earlier on, in an attempt to avert utter self-loathing, I did switch off the television set and do something less boring instead. This happened to be switching on 6Music just in time to hear Beth Orton's 'I wish I never saw the sunshine', possibly my defining song of 1998 (not my finest year). I shed a little tear and felt a little bleaker. M's son T came round to pick up his birthday presents. I opened the door, kissed him hello and said 'Hmm. 28. Difficult age'. He must wonder what sort of nutter his father lives with.

But then later, post a divine bottle of red wine shared with housemates over rice penne with chilli, broccoli, anchovies and pine kernels (hot, salty, comforting and good for you), I was left alone in the living room with only a Nick Drake documentary and some crackling logs (from sustainably managed woodland of course) for company.

And what fine company it was. If you'd asked me, I'd have said I'd had enough Nick Drake documentaries for one lifetime, but I'm glad you didn't because then I might not have heard the strains of so many beautiful songs right at a time when I needed them. I almost never listen to Nick Drake because it's such a bittersweet experience for me, like taking the pressed flowers of teenage dreams out of the book where they've been safe all this time and seeing how the colours have faded and the pages have stained.

But there's something hopeful and cathartic about doing that, as well as something sad. And sad is fine too. Let the fresh air in, feel what's there to be felt, add it to everything else that helps to feel the next thing.

So by this argument, I'm with the new kids on the block. Spring is sprung. Or at least springing.

joella

1 comment:

tatton said...

I think red wine is excellent for PMT - so well done there, try it again next time. Not sure about the music stuff you ramble on about (there's a song in there somewhere and I think it's by Led Zeppelin). Sounds like you should leave it to M to me, but perhaps that's what your passion and spark with him is all about.

One of the beauties of womanhood is that at the very time when we feel the most self-loathing (ie period time) is the very time when we are most in touch with the world. Personally I'd like to see more research around this, but the medical profession is too busy designing 'robot consultants' to bother with Jane Smith's heightened sense of smell and sensitivity at the time of the month.

When I started my periods, my Mum's friend sent me a postcard congratulating me on becoming a woman. Something I'll hopefully never forget. Women should be more proud of themselves.

Phil says that comments shouldn't be longer than entries - is there a 'Geek's Eqtiquette' on this or is he spouting his usual?