Guitar lessons and my Better-Half.

Thank you so much for all your lovely thoughts and comments on my last post.  I am glad I wrote it now, if it might have helped someone out there know they're not alone.  But there was something missing from it, something, or rather someone who didn't get a mention simply because I would have been here all night writing and you would have all nodded off long before you got to the end of it.  The same someone who just brought me out a nice hot cup of tea, because it is COLD out here in the studio, winter is finally on its way.

I shall endeavor not to get too soppy, but it must be said, I am blessed to be married to this bloke.  He grieved quietly and deeply for his little girl...and carried on working and meeting deadlines and dealing with clients and paying the bills, while I fell into a howling sea of confusion and pain and sorrow.  He didn't understand the way I was grieving, it scared him and he was afraid he'd lost the woman he loved.  I truly was a mess.  But he never stopped being there for me, he never gave up on me, never decided he couldn't do it anymore, never walked away.  We've been through a couple dark times since then too...and he is always my rock.  He is infinitely patient (he has to be to have put up with me for 24 years!), kind and gentle, makes me laugh all the time, and tells me he loves me many times every day.  He is a wonderful dad to his beautiful girls, and he is also incredibly clever and talented (the 'bedroom makeover' for example, which is nearly done!) though you won't hear that from him.  He considers himself a 'simple bloke', but if simple means honest, open, funny, optimistic, gentle and...well, you get the picture...I'll take 'simple' anytime.  And by the way, I DO mean honest...this is a man who is brave enough to tell me "you know, that skirt makes your bum look really big".  But that's ok, because I know that when he tells me "you look gorgeous tonight", he really means it.  He treats everyone in the same open, honest, friendly way, and hasn't allowed cynicism (or past sorrows) to dampen his enthusiasm for life...I love seeing him excited about some new project, he's like a big kid and it makes me feel excited and enthusiastic too.  He has a lopsided grin, the most beautiful eyes in the world, and did I mention that he's gorgeous?!  He's my Beloved, my Bigger-Half (well, he's 6'4" so not hard), and my Better-Half too.

But enough of all that soppy stuff!  In other news...the 'Vagabond King' didn't exactly get finished in time, but I did take it in to the exhibition.  It just went in as a one-sided wall-hanging rather than a piece of wearable art.  Have you ever worked on something that you KNOW is rubbish, but you keep working on it and telling yourself that it will be ok when it's finished?  My epiphany came at 12:30 am Saturday morning (11 and a half hours before it had to be delivered) when I realised that the other side (or the front of the coat thing) which I'd been working frantically on for 3 days, was rubbish.  It was bad.  It was so bad it made the back look bad too.  It was rushed.  It was a compromise because I didn't have time to finish it how I wanted to.  And my heart wasn't in it.  So I spent the next 2 hours undoing everything I'd done in the last 2 days, until I was left with just the big circle on the red background.  At 3am I was so tired I didn't know what to do next, so I went to bed resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to make the deadline.   In the morning, Beloved and I sat on the couch with our morning coffees, me looking and feeling decidedly worse for wear, and looked at it spread out on the floor.  He said "when's it got to be in?"  I said "3 hours."  He said "must be something you could do."  I said " suppose I could just hem it, make a casing at the top and stick something through."  So to cut a long story short, I found myself frantically hemming, by hand, all round the whole thing, while Beloved went and hack-sawed off the end of an old metal curtain rod and rooted around in the garage for some wire to hang it from.  Upshot is, I finished it at 11:35am, leapt into the car, got there at 12:05pm to drop it off, and thankfully they accepted it.  Then I went home and passed out on the couch for several hours!

The other exciting thing (for me, probably not for the rest of the family, or my neighbours) is that today I had my very first guitar lesson.  I've wanted to play for so long (my very talented brother plays beautifully), so I decided the only way I'd ever get around to doing it is if I booked a whole block of lessons.  So guess what Beloved bought me for my birthday?  I have no illusions about becoming a guitar maestro, but it would be nice to be able to sing and play along.  And apparently learning new skills is a good way to keep the brain healthy, so wish me luck.

Morgan's little sister, with her very proud and happy Dad, nine years ago this August.  It's ok, her nose doesn't look like that now!