This Summer Holiday

 As many other people, we didn't even bother looking into international travel this year. Just going somewhere within UK now feels like a treat. Camping used to be an easy addition to our schedule, something to do over a long weekend. Now it became the main event. Finding a free camping space was as difficult as a search for a truly reasonably priced flight to Europe in pre-pandemic years. Packing the car was as exciting as a trip through the airport check-in, security, shops and gate queue for dear child. All of us felt special for simply leaving the home and sleeping somewhere else for the first time in more than a year.

We have spent a week in the Northumberland. And it was great. Dear child had the best time, because the school year had only just ended and we could see the thrill from the freedom, the long weeks of free time stretching ahead. I still remember that feeling... But being around the beautiful part of the world, discovering new places and fulfilling a dream of meeting puffins was great for us all. 

Back home, the old routines are calling, on top of all the unpacking, washing, cleaning, sorting... And the worries about how to fill the rest of the summer break while maintaining some level of work and project accomplishments. The usual parenting dilemmas.

However, I have learnt a few things. Socializing in covid times is possible, even easy when outdoors. Investing in a good tent is a very good idea. So is finding a good dog sitter, because camping with dogs is fun, but you can't explore as much as you can without the dog. My nagging feeling that lockdown is too comfortable for me and I should shake up my routine and leave the house, garden and sourdough starter, because they will cope without me for a while, was true. I will need to find more to do, change direction, leave housewifing. It is time. Yes, lockdown helped me to publish a book and build a good writing routine, as well as maintain very good yoga practise and meditation routine, but it is time to meet the world. The trip reminded me about the big bright world out there. I knew it was there, I've known it and travelled it extensively, but as soon as I finally started making plans for my possible future as the child and dog grew and became less demanding, the pandemic started and everything was paused.

I have already written about the fact that I am a loner, that I liked lockdown. But since the spring, after kids went back to school, I started thinking that I am almost hiding behind it all. I was needed for home school. But I also discovered how busy I can be around the house. Guess what? I can organize myself better, get husband of his ass and help, and if everything won't done to perfection the world won't end. So, after unpacking and settling, I will start my next adventure. Because change is good. Seize the day...

Climate Talk

 Getting ready one morning last week, I got annoyed by the climate talk on the news. It wasn't the first time. The mentions of Glasgow Summit that will happen is always presented as something great, big, fantastic. The prime minister uses it as a filler to pretend that he cares. But what it will be about?

I still have the Paris Summit in my memory, even though I didn't really follow the news about it. But the endless discussions, voting, tension, made it so interesting to watch. And when they all clapped at the end, people thought that something will finally start happening. How naïve. Nothing ever happens after these summits. The attendees make endless talk, they reach an agreement, vaguely create goals that sound nice, put them in a future distant enough for them to be out of politics, positions, retired; they shake their hands, go home, world forgets until the next summit comes and it all repeats itself.

I am getting more and more irritated and impatient. Besides pointless summits, we are often presented with the suggestion that we can buy our way out of the disaster. Once we all buy the electric car, replace our boiler for something more expensive, insulate our homes, we will all be better off. As long as we, little citizens, keep paying and spending, we will all be fine. How will all the things be produced? How many resources, how much energy? Where will the power for the magic car come from? Oh, I forgot to mention the super expensive solar power blocks I am meant to buy once I insulate the roof. There will be grants, of course. It will all be connected, you see? But how will the things be made, transported, put together? How will that affect the climate? Nature? Biodiversity?

The little less interesting message, that consuming less, wanting less, being more frugal, gets lost in the big shiny profit making messages. How many people believe it? How many care? Lots do, but they feel overwhelmed, intimidated, give up before even trying anything.

Hearing Prince Charles speaking that morning reminded me about my childhood, when all these messages and signs were already there, deeply unfashionable. Now it is at least cool to recycle, take your own bag to the shop and drink tap water from your own bottle. Of course, somebody can sell you stylish recycling bin, nice bag and a personalised bottle. I remember being a little girl, worrying about the future, thinking about how to protect it. Back then, I cared most about the animals that were disappearing. I still do, but there are so many more issues. It is all nice that I can save energy by washing my laundry at 30. But will the great washing powder affect marine life? It's not just climate, it is about everything.

The only people talking sense right now are Extinction Rebellion, but they are also making themselves unpopular with their protests and therefore harder to be listened to. I get the message, I know they feel they have to wake us up, there is no time to waste, but I am also sad that it can't be better. I feel frustrated that they can't get themselves heard and help us to do something instead of discussing how to protest 'properly'.

When the pandemic started, there was so much talk about how we will change our way, our mindset, our life style. But as long as money is the only measure of profit, endless growth the goal, and the environment without value if it can't be made into fast profit, I don't see a way out. I proudly do my little thing, I know I am not perfect, but I can't stop to worry. I always remember the saying 'We inherited this planet from our parents and borrowed it from our children' and feel sad about the state of the world our kids will have to deal with. Because, unless we stop kidding ourselves, it will only get worse.

And before I have managed to publish this post, there were the European floods, Chinese floods, fires in the USA continue and the UK has a heathwave. But, yes, they will talk about it in Glasgow and we will all be fine...

About Grey Rainbow

 My book has been out for a while and the process of marketing is... daunting. It really is as hard as I thought it would be, as every single indie writer had said it would be, as the general public assumes it would be... I wasn't the one exception, the lucky one, the one who managed to get it right.

But I have published a book. I am a writer. I do what I love to do. And that matters.

Busy editing my second book (which, actually is the first book I've ever finished!), it is easy to somehow forget about the first one. It is done, the files are saved and backed up, the paperback proof is in the box (because I can't open it and find yet another coma or word out of place!). But the interesting thing is: I still think about my characters.

The book is called Grey Rainbow and it is a mixture of what I know: communism, growing up during its end, life behind the iron curtain and life after the iron curtain, family dynamics, Austria. I took what I know and created a story inspired by it, but it is not a book about me, my characters are fictional. But, the main character has lots of me in her. Of course she does, she grew up in the same town, had a difficult mother (not the same like me but similar), found out that she doesn't belong where she was born, has endless curiosity, is independent and strong... So, I have a bond with her. And because of her, I believed in the book and in the story and have decided that it would be my first published book. Because it felt right.

I tried literary agents, but had no success. Women's fiction is tricky. It is very vague. It is big. Women love to read and love stories. BUT. If you are writing women's fiction in Britain, it should be British. I have read many articles about how difficult it is to bring foreign stories to the UK. People don't read many translated books. Sure, there are plenty of stories, plenty of good material here. But the whole world is outside. OK. There is Ireland, USA, India. Also, lately, Africa. Let's say, there are the historical ties, the places that click, places that are not too foreign.

Is a book that happens in the early 2000s current or historical? Who knows. It is yesterday to me, not remembered by many. Europe at the time isn't too interesting, not for Britain. I wrote my foreign book about foreign people in English, but it was still too 'not what we are looking for at the moment' for the traditional houses. Of course. It was written by someone who doesn't really belong here or there, who had never really belonged anywhere. Which makes me a perfect indie talent, right?

So I set to work and self published. Because I can't make my Petra - the main character of Grey Rainbow, different. She is a Czech girl who stubbornly went against the tradition and did her own thing, found her home in Austria, opened her own business and found love she didn't look for. I can't cut this story different, make it more marketable. I don't even know how to market it properly. What book is it most similar to? Well, I don't know. I don't write what the market wants, I write what I feel. Which agent or publishing house would fit best? Who am I to know? My name is unknown, I don't have connections, I didn't live in the UK until 2007. It is my home, but in the eyes of many people, I am not from here. So how do I get my foot in the door? I just build my own entrance.

The book is out. The pandemic will be a memory of editing, editing, proof reading and more editing. The frustration that was cover art. The discovery of the fact that to create an eBook wasn't easy, but paperback was way harder and I should've really started with that one. And the day that I pressed the final Go For It button and declared myself and author will also always flutter in my mind when people talk about the pandemic and lockdowns in the future. The world didn't care. I did. And I became a writer.

And then it was quiet. It still is. But the book is there. And I am busy editing the other one. But my characters keep coming back to me. I think about them. About how they are now. What are they up to. I offer possibilities. I worry that I am too cruel. I remind myself that such thing as happily ever after doesn't exist. Spoiler alert (sort of): we leave Petra when she is happy, because she is in love. She is in the phase of a relationship when you think that it will always be that good, because this is it and the rest of the world got it wrong, but you found gold. But it must change. Yes, of course they are still together. But I have to throw things at them, they can't just hold hands and smile today, since 2003. My mind offers ideas, situations, solutions. I see them how they are now. I even wonder how they would cope with the pandemic. Not how I would write about it, I think about them like I think about other people I know.

Do I write a sequel? I didn't plan it. But the characters, to me, are very real and special. They made me a writer. I lived with them for a while, thought about them a lot (not as much as about dear child but definitely more than about husband). What happens to character when the book is done? You either write a series, or you keep thinking about them, don't you? Now there is a question for the writing community!

Anyway, the book is available here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Grey-Rainbow-Lucinda-Real-ebook/dp/B08PPNYRS8/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=lucinda+real+grey+rainbow&qid=1623944002&sr=8-1 

 Check it out and have a great day!

Power of Silence

 I went away again. No blogs, no social media, no communication. I just didn't feel like talking. Not long ago I was thinking that I was starting to figure out how to talk to  people online, but my timeline on twitter went silent again.

Why? Who knows. I didn't have an easy life at home. Relationship went through a rocky path. I wasn't in a mood of pretending that everything was rosy. It just it what it is... I've made my bed, I will lie on it... As I got over it, my vaccination date arrived and with it another crisis.

I reacted quite badly to the vaccine and had spent all last weekend in bed, shivering, in fever. Then I got better, just tired. So I did what I had to do, bare minimum, and the rest could wait. Including talking to the world. It clearly doesn't miss me, which suits me just fine.

But there is a book to edit, another to promote, world to conquer... And people are generally nice, why not engage?

What kept me sane and calm, besides yoga, breathing exercises and meditation (or attempts to meditate), were crafts. I was sitting, listening to radio, knitting. Then I tried making bracelets. And it was so calming, taking bracelets that never worked or fell apart, and giving them new life. Unlike knitting, the result came much faster. And with the finished project, the energy came back. I want to show them to the world, and while I am at it, why not talk a little?

While crafting, I stumbled upon a radio play Portrait of a Lady, and loved listening to it. The uneasy life story of the heroine and all the other characters suited my present disillusion. It remained me why stories matter, why they are worth to be told. No happy ending. At certain age, we don't want happy endings, they aren't believable. Sad or open endings are easier to comprehend, I believe.

Manchester Pilgrimage

 I gave myself a book as a birthday present. Britain's Pilgrim Places is a beautifully presented book  full of detailed descriptions and photos. It also has codes that let you download the trip onto a map in a phone. I've recently bought my first smartphone and this feature was a revelation. I am also a person who likes know where I am going, tend to get lost, prefer to have a map (and can manage to get lost with the map). And I love walking. A pilgrimage is a walk with a purpose. It doesn't have to be spiritual. It can. I trekked in the Himalayas and it felt profoundly spiritual, without it being a pilgrimage.

What I wanted was an inspiration for walks and this book has plenty. I have immediately found the pilgrimage nearest to me - Manchester 1 Day Pilgrimage from Eccles parish church to Manchester's cathedral. Taking advantage of the nice weather and the fact that nothing was planned last Sunday, I went for my first pilgrimage. It was great.

The book probably offers much nicer and better walks, but I enjoyed this one anyway. It was very convenient. I took the metrolink to Eccles, opened the map app and started walking. The route took me from Eccles to Salford and then to the centre of Manchester. On the way, I passed Salford Cathedral, St Mary's Church and St Ann's Church. I didn't visit any of the churches, some were closed due to the pandemic, other had a mass happening. It didn't really matter.

What mattered was that I had a chance to explore Manchester in a way I usually wouldn't. I would never decide to walk from Salford to Manchester. The walk wasn't too attractive, I have walked past industrial estates and warehouses and alongside busy roads, but I felt like I was reclaiming the city. These places often feel remote, closed. But the map told me to go and I could see there was a footpath, I took it, followed the river Irwell and made my way to familiar, busy streets of Manchester. I now feel that I know the city I live in better. When I drive or take the metrolink, I never realize how close these parts are, how well connected. I would never have thought about taking a detour to Salford Cathedral. I passed the city centre churches and the cathedral many times, but now I looked at them and connected them together. The city centre is changing fast and it is nice to see that some old buildings are still there, marking the passing time.

I've ended my weekend with a feeling of accomplishment. I've made it. It was a small pilgrimage, nothing special, but it was a start. I will find the next one soon. And the effect of a quiet walk, thinking time and time to myself was predictably good. Can't wait for the next pilgrimage.

To The Heart

 Moving through the chakras, I am working with the Anahata - the heart chakra, this month. And I feel the resistance. When I've read about it, many things resonated with me. There is more emphasis on breathing exercises and they are really good. But I've kept pushing away the physical practise. I did a simple set of postures that didn't feel as challenging.

Anahata is all about opening, acceptance, love, movement of the energy up and beyond. But I don't want to go into it. I hesitate. I don't want to think or confront my feelings right now. They are probably too messy. There are many backbends, some balancing postures, things that often make us uncomfortable. We are used to holding ourselves in a certain way. To lock in emotions and feelings, we close up. Therefore opening and reaching out can bring some emotions we didn't expect. On the physical side, my bad shoulder is meeting new limits and I like to explore it. But some boundaries are firm, not everything is possible. I think about the good old times, when that sets of postures would be done much more easily. I will get there when I am ready. In my body or in my head.

April is my favourite month. My dear child was born in April. It is a month of change and challenge. I feel it more strongly this year, maybe because the pandemic is here for second spring and this year, it is different. We are used to it. Not having a birthday party, not travelling for Easter holidays, not being around people is now normal. We are not as afraid of the virus as we were. It is still here, but we are so used to it being here, we just keep the distance, wash our hands, wear the mask... And it is the opening up, meeting people, going out about that make us worried. I went through a full scale of emotions this month. Excitement, denial, sadness. Now I am at making plans, plotting stage. I will need to see it through to action. But just seeing that I am slowly getting ready is surely a good sign.

The Value of Work

 Over a year since the first lockdown. Lots of comments on the news. We've been through a lot while staying put, haven't we? There were so many ideas during the time, especially at the beginning: about community spirit, self-improvement, learning to appreciate the little things, all noble and nice. But what have we learnt?

One of the things that was talked about a year ago was the value of home work. Something that is done in a rush, always inconvenient, offloaded to someone whenever possible or affordable. With all of us staying home, home work was not furloughed, quite the opposite, it multiplied.

I am a housewife. That is my official title. A yogini, writer, mother, sister, dog walker, photographer, knitter, artist - fancy words, but when it comes to the box ticking exercise, housewife it is. None of the things that fulfil me and make me happy bring in any income, therefore they are hobbies. I am not paid for the housework I do either. Therefore it doesn't count, it seems. But by doing it and by taking care of all the errands and child care duties I give husband the opportunity to do his job, travel, work at variable times. He supports the family. He is the person of value, he provides. What do I do?

Often, it seems like nothing. I was even introduced like that by dear husband when a new neighbour came over to meet us. 'Lucinda does nothing.' I was reminded about that old grudge of mine recently, just as we were listening to the news on the radio. They mentioned that women took on more of the housework and childcare during the lockdown. Husband commented: 'Well, more women than men were furloughed, so they weren't doing anything anyway.' Where do I start this argument, I thought to myself.

The work that goes into the creation of a home is invisible to half of the population, it seems. It is something that happens, gets done, is easy, even nothing. They only notice it when nobody is there to do it for them. Most of the work has to be planned, because for a home to run smoothly, you have to be on top of things. Shopping, cleaning, maintenance, repairs, cooking, laundry, bills, appointments, gardening..... everything has to be thought about in advance, and then it has to be done. Preferably properly, which means that nobody notices it actually happened. And therefore it becomes as invisible as a woman after her 35th birthday.

Ever since that comment, I remind husband that he is doing nothing and therefore he can do this or that. But the thing is, I don't want to do that. I don't want to keep telling him what needs to be done, why, how, when, and why I can't, or won't do it myself. It is easier to do it myself. Which he knows. And of course, he will just wait for me to do it. It is a stupid, endlessly repeated circle.

Nobody learnt the value of housework apart from the people who did it for the first time in years - professionals who could afford nannies, cleaners, dog walkers, and who supported many jobs in the same way husband supports my existence while I (apparently) daydream. The people who found themselves staying at home, working from home, and have met the second shift they forgot existed, were supposed to realize the value of house work. But did they?

I was bringing up our child with no help, there were no friends or relatives to turn to. Which was fine, we knew it would be so. But I still remember how we started the nursery after dear child was three years old. Fifteen hours a week - three morning, full day on Thursday, home on Friday. And many people asked me: 'What will you do now?' As if the time between drop off and pick up was an endless sea of work opportunities. When, true to be told, I just wanted to get the chores done without them being undone by a child crawling behind me... What can you 'do' in the small time given in the nursery year?

I admire people who started a business from the kitchen table, published a book, became influencers, studied and graduated, while having one child after another. And I salute all working mothers. But is it so bad to admit that I don't want to do laundry at ten at night, clean the house over the weekend, and shuffle child from school to club to friends for dinner, and work only to pay for the extra hours of care? When I had a baby, something I wasn't even sure would happen to me, I stayed with the baby. Because bringing up a baby takes time, so does recovery. Other issues slowed me down later, I am slowly picking up speed, but I can't remember the last day that felt free, truly free. Every day is dotted by small and big things that need to be done. The little, invisible, invaluable work. We will return to the new normal, the economy will pick up, I hope we will all do and be well. We will never forget the pandemic. But will we value the invisible jobs? Maybe when we start valuing carers, helpers, child minders, cleaners.... It will probably take a while.