I Realize There Are People Out There Who Do This A Lot

I didn't sleep last night. It's like my body and brain are battling each other for existence and neither of them is very happy with the other. I lie there, wide awake, like a stranded whale, wheezing and huffing and puffing. I try to roll over to the other side and it's almost impossible. And then my brain wakes up and starts being annoying. Really annoying. Here are a couple of things I pondered between 2 and 3 a.m.

My son's homework
Head lice
Our plastic Christmas tree (did J threw it out?)
The fact that I'm not reading anything I like at the moment
Cereal
Child birth (all kinds)
Mushrooms
Head lice again

At 3.20 a.m. I went downstairs, had some cereal and Instagrammed a couple of hours away. I was bored to the point of tears. Insomnia. Such a totally useless state of mind. I realize I'm spoiled with sleep. It's usually one of my super powers. I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, anyhow. So this is... weird. Weird and temporay. And my heart goes out to the many who battle this on a daily (nightly) basis. God, you must be so tired.

On Our Minds

W worries a bit about the new baby. B is all excitement, but then she doesn't know better, as her big brother put it. He does. He worries that the baby is going to take Blanka's place and then she'll take his and there won't be anything left for him. No attention, nothing. "Since I'm so big that noone's going to look after me or anything." He'll be nine in November. My very big heart.

With Many A Winding Turn

I stayed upstairs for a while, listening to my mother and the children in the kitchen. Doing cross stitches and building lego dragons, talking about dinner and school and who had done what to whom and why. And it was so comforting, so soothing to hear their voices, that I fell asleep right there and then. Fifteen minutes well spent.

Tomorrow I'll try to get back on track camera wise and show you something that's a little more current than summery roads. But what a good road that was. Warm, dusty, empty. Empty but for me, wearing a wet bikini and a summer dress, riding a borrowed bike and scaring the cows with my laughter. A good road and a good summer.

But we can talk about that later. Thanks for reading.

So Here's What Happened

I started throwing up. As I do. When pregnant.

And I couldn't stop. As I can't. When pregnant. And so I threw up for eleven weeks and after that I was in no shape to either talk, walk or blog. 

I'm now 32 weeks and larger than life and a big mess of feelings, hunger, nausea, back pain and guilt. As of today I'm no longer working and it makes me feel both relieved and a little anxious. Like I'm cheating. Like I'm supposed to be able to handle this. Being pregnant, taking care of my family, making money, writing great stuff. But I can't. It doesn't work for me. So that's it. I'm taking the money making and the writing out of the equation and hopefully that will help with the other parts. The guilt, well, I'll be working on that.

But it feels good to be back here. I haven't visited this place in months and I don't know what will happen now. Will anyone read this? Is anyone still here? To tell you the truth, Blogger's made so many changes since I last posted anything that I don't even know if I can still manage this thing. But I'll try. And I'll be back tomorrow. Hope to see you then.

Still Here

Sorry about the double posting, dear Instagrammers.
I just wanted to say that I'm still here.
So hello, again.
Before you know it, this place will be sparkly and new and I'll be back to regular posting and regular everything. I can't wait.
Until then, I hope spring is treating you fine. We had snow last week and it's colder than I can ever remember (but I think I say that every year). The sun's working double shifts though, so there's hope.
And Sunday is my birthday. And Easter Sunday, of course.
Can't wait for that either.
So I'll see you soon. Thanks for coming.

Bonus: Love And Support From Great Britain

Yes. I am an only child. This we've had reason to establish before. So I will indulge in this without further ado and share the pure joy of having Lovely Readers with you, lovely readers:

Aw come on it's not Ugly as in Avert Your Gaze Or Have Your Eyesight Forever Impaired. It may not be what you'd like right now, but the design fairy will happen along sometime and grant your wish - (es) if the wind is favourable. (Sorry it isn't me). I think it's like going into the home of a good friend. OK the hall carpet maybe ain't so pretty, walls could do with a bit of something but hey, when you get by that the house is groaning with good stuff. The fire is lit, the cooker is belting out something fabulous and the good friend greets you with a mug of the best coffee ever. Relax, we'll wear a blindfold till you finish the decorating. (Sent with good intentions - not implying your carpet sucks) x

Best wishes

Shona Pinkshoes

Dear Pinkshoes, consider the fire lit.

Hello Friday

You came this week with light.
Harsh, unforgiving, white light.
Revealing all-light, no holding back-light.
Finding every line under my eyes, every dirty fingerprint on the kitchen windows, every dark hair resting on the white stairs, everything.
Dear Friday.
You came this week with light.
Shine on.

Confession Time Or The Ugly Truth Or Bonfire Of The Vanities

So, here we go, confession time:
The reason I'm not here anymore?
It's so ugly.
It's so ugly I can't stand it. I know, I know, I know. It's never been very pretty and it's not a design blog and why should it even matter and bla bla bla but it does. It really does.
I have things to say and stories to tell, but I find myself dreading the ugliness of this place and avoiding it pretty much at all cost.
And that's just a crying shame.
Because this place has been beautiful and important (well, to me) in oh so many ways and I really shouldn't discard it just because it doesn't look good anymore. How vain and superficial am I? (Oh, lots, it seems.)
You see, everytime I enter this space and see the ugly heading I just cringe and look away. And we can't have that anymore. This is the only writing I do without getting paid and I'd hate to let it go. I need to be here, I think.
So.
Starting today I'm on a mission to find someone who can help me transform this space into something that looks more like home. A clever designer with an hour or two to spare and a mission to create a heading that feels just right.
And.
Until I do find that person and the right idea and the right feeling and all, I'll go back to regular posting just to show that I'm not all about looks. You know, in case you'd gotten me all wrong or summat (sorry, saw Jamie Oliver last night, can't help myself). So there's that. That's that. That's it. That's all. Thanks for your fantastic patience, if you're still there.

Rue St Honoré

I'm thinking of posting everything we ate and drank in Paris. Would you like that? Really awful photos too, like this one, with too much or too little light and no filters and no nothing. Keeping it real. Whaddyasay? 'Cause, let's face it, Paris to me is always gonna be more about the coffee than about the Louvre.

I Believe In The Kindness Of Neighbours

I can't sew. The only sew I know is the "Sew - a needle pulling threeeaaad" from you know what-movie. Not the real deal. It makes me sweat and ache and swear and pant like a dog running a marathon. Annette on the other hand is calm, cool and collected and knows her way around the machine. So I begged. That's what I do, I beg and bribe. And she threw caution to the wind and helped me sew a new cover for the kitchen sofa, asking nothing in return. I gave her coffee and lasagna (I'm not a total monster), but apart from that I think I was mostly in her way. It was like having a blue wizard in the house. Wiz, wiz, wiz and all of a sudden there was spring in the kitchen. Thank you, Annette. I owe you.