I've been stationary for too long and I am restless. Three storms, one after the other, have kept us housebound for a significant part of the month, coinciding with my birthday and a visit from my parents, and still the wintry weather persists. We have seen plenty of snow, but never enough for a snowman, each shower overlapped by the rain so it never settles for long. One day I watched the snow settle then melt, settle then melt, several times over, with an effect not unlike the tide coming in and then going back out again.
Our roof leaks in three different places. Drips fall contemptuously in our workshop from the neglected property above, empty and the owner out of reach. Shared responsibility for the roof, or more the lack of responsibility from the other party, has held up the repairs for long enough with no sign of light at the end of the tunnel. Other projects have been delayed too with difficulty in supply and demand of the building materials we need. So many rooms are out of use that what's left feel cluttered and disorganised.
There are moments where, along with my own minor health complaints in the mix, I've felt weary of this house and all its problems. My efforts feel futile and I don't see a quick resolution to anything.
And yet, this is home. I don't always see it beyond all the work that needs to be done. I can play games in the living room with my children, or potter about the kitchen making dinner, or sit in the breakfast room, writing while looking out across the garden, and feel deeply grateful. Yesterday evening the sky was clear for once and, while we ate dinner, we looked up at the moon, and Venus diagonally above. It seemed like a moment of clarity. Next month I'm determined will be a more hopeful one.
