Oh haiiiii there. Long time no speak. Entirely my fault I know, but I've been busy moving and adjusting to my new surroundings. More on that later, today I thought I'd jump right back into the blog with an ever so cheerful post. On the 27th (Thursday) it was the one year anniversary of my dad's death. I knew that I wanted to be alone, but wasn't quite sure what to do myself. I ended up writing for most of the day, in a sort of stream of consciousness style. I didn't have the blog in mind on the day, but as I shared my immediate thoughts on dad's death with you (Dad), I thought you might be interested to see what I did one year on...
This is an exact transcript of what I put down in my ever cool South Park notebook, so expect some rough looking grammar.
8.30am
My car is surrounded by midges. I really am starting to get quite paranoid about it. I don't think it's really possible for a car to smell all that bad. I presumed maybe it was because my engine was warm, but another lady has just pulled up and her car doesn't seem to be covered in midges. I guess I'm okay about it really so long as they can't get in. After all I have parked up in a nature area, so I should really expect some NATURE.
Although massively outnumbered by the midges, I have so far seen three birds (small,yellowish) and a squirrel (small,reddish). Also, a black dog, I want to say Labrador, but obviously that belonged to the lady in the midge free car. I have only been here for half an hour, so there's still plenty of time for a fox to appear, or maybe a panther, a panther would be cool. I remember back in school rumours would go round about panthers spotted on the fen roads. Obviously it was all bullshit, but today I prepared to believe in a little bullshit. Today IS bullshit.
8.40am
A robin. There's a robin just chilling out over there. Aaaaaand now it's under my car. I thought that robins were only about in the winter, but, actually, now, even as I write that I'm thinking no. That would be ridiculous, robins live for 3-4 months and what? Just die as soon as the daffodils come out? For a supposedly fairly intelligent person, I sure can be stupid sometimes. I'll ask Naomi, she knows birds, plus she's ACTUALLY clever.
The sky has taken a VERY grim turn. Massive gray cloud. It's almost like being back in Manchester. Except for some reason gray clouds are much more ominous here. Probably because they aren't an everyday occurrence...
8.53am
I totally get stakeouts now. It is basically chilling in your car watching things. That's exactly what I'm doing right now. I'm not purposely watching for anything in particular, but this woman walking her dog has been gone some time. Thanks to my overactive imagination, I can already see me using this notepad as evidence at the investigation into her disappearance. How handy it is of me to be writing down the times in the margin. Although, I could have just made the times up AFTER, paper isn't time stamped like technology. After what? I don't know, I think I just convicted myself of murder. Aaah daydreams...
According to ever reliable TV portrayals, the stake out snack of choice is donuts. In my 'stakeout' things have taken a bit of a french turn. I have croissants, a baguette, iced coffee, sparkling water. I didn't set out to be this french, it just kind of happened. I wanted to have things that reminded me of dad. He loved salt and pepper baguettes, maybe even more than I do. I can only imagine what I look like from an outsider's view. I'm parked in the middle of nowhere with a baguette 'sitting' in my passenger seat. It's like the shittest picnic ever I guess. It's raining now, I hope dog lady has a hood.
11.13am
I've just finished a pretty terrible bit of artwork. Let's call it impressionism because it looks nothing like this landscape. In my defence I had several of my watercolour pencils missing and no paintbrush. I'm quite sure that Monet didn't have to use his fingers to blend dry water colours and he probably had more than two shades of brown.
I've realised there's a small flaw in today's plan. I am in the middle of nowhere and I need the loo. Will have to vacate the premises and search for a little village pub, then sneak in and out before they ask me to buy anything as I don't have any cash - nor do I want anything they have to offer, I have a car full of baguette and coffee.
12.08pm
Well, that was always going to be an adventure wasn't it? At least it only took me half hour to find facilities. The closest thing other than farms was actually a bridal studio? It did cross my mind to pretend to be a giddy bride to be, but then I figured most future brides don't turn up alone, un-anounced, and covered in croissant flakes. I remembered my way to the pub in the next village, although to find the turning I had to slow right down. Much to the annoyance of the only car for miles, because obviously it had caught up with me and was now no doubt stabbing me in the back of the head with their eyes, as I dithered over whether this road went to the pub or was just another crazy long driveway.
Unfortunately for me, the pub wasn't open yet. Obviously, because it was before midday and not a town centre pub that needs to facilitate it's local 'morning drinkers' AKA alcoholics.
So onto the next village. Or rather, through the next 3 villages which collectively hold less than 10 houses, and onto the fourth, which has a co-op.
A co-op without a toilet I soon found out. I came across a village hall, and it's door was open. It all looked very promising, until I realised the toilets were somewhere at the back of a hall and there was a gaggle of old ladies having a meeting, and it was all just a bit too quiet.
Two more pubs, two more closed signs.
Finally, somewhere that's open.
A small cafe, that had no customers, so an in and out was out of the question. It was my last option in this village though so I just bit the bullet and asked outright if they had a loo. I had of course forgotten where I was and realised these people didn't care that I wasn't buying anything (much as people didn't care that I'd left my phone on display in my car at the co-op. Oops). I need to remember I don't live in the city anymore.
Anyway, so now I'm back in my spot. Although it's pretty busy now. Three whole other lone rangers are parked up, doing their thing in their cars. On the upside, the midges appear to have found something even dirtier than my car to obsess over.
1.11pm
I've eaten too many croissants. Way too full, now too fat for my own car. If this were Midsomer Murders, I'm pretty sure this would be where they find the dumped bodies. Although I think perhaps I'm safe because it's not even dark yet, and last night's bodies were hopefully found before I got here.
When the 8 million croissants have gone down a bit and I'm out of my food coma, I'll take a walk in the woods. I'm also waiting for the guy parked next to me to come back. He went into the woods with a camera that had a lense attachment as long as my arm. I don't want to be in the same woods as that.
Oh. We have a new arrival. A lanky as fuck smoking teenager driving his mum? No, nan, let's go nan, she has a perm. She's carrying a plastic bag, yet they have no dog. Maybe she just really enjoys picking up crap and her grandson has nothing better to do with this day than help her chase that dream.
I'm not sure how I'd spend time with my grandparents if they were alive though. Going to nan's mainly consisted of playing in the garden and eating biscuits. Then as we were a bit older she grew more frail and it consisted of sitting in her lounge, eating biscuits. The other 3 were all gone by the time I was 11ish so I remember nothing but playtime with them. I guess what I'm saying is I can't really relate to taking your nan and her plastic bag to the woods.
1.29pm
I might do more drawing. It's just disappointing when it comes out so much worse on the page than you saw it in your head. Dad was a good artist, he wasn't a pro or anything, but they didn't look like they were done by a child. I may not have inherited his talent but I definitely think I inherited his creative thinking streak. I keep thinking that I should be thinking about him more today. Well, not necessarily more, I am thinking of him constantly today, that's why I chose this place, and a salt and pepper baguette, and to bring my sketchpad. More is not the right word. I guess I thought I'd be crying most of today, but maybe I've trained myself too well to avoid tearful thoughts. If I think back a year ago to the morning I walked into the ward and knew right away it wouldn't be long, my mind stops there and changes the subject.
Not even to something more interesting, I am now just thinking about how I am not thinking about it. Also, about how different the weather is to a few hours ago. I am roasting in my car. I've opened my window, but just a slither in case the midges return. English weather be crazy.
2.25pm
So, I'm back from my walk and I think I'm ready to leave. 6 hours will probably do it. I know that I'm popping home to use the loo but I might go onto somewhere else after. So I guess you're wondering why I chose to spend the anniversary of my dad's death alone and in the middle of nowhere. Well, the alone part is simple. I don't like people at the best of times, I relish my own company. I particularly can't stand people that want to talk to me about a) things I'm not interested in - which is mostly gossip about other people round here, b) my feelings about anything- let alone my dad. My mind is overactive enough to 'shrink' myself thankfully, and don't worry I'm covering all angles.
So why here? A few years ago, I must have been early teens? My dad and I went on a bike ride. It's not something we did that often, it was a spur of the moment, why not on a nice day? thing. We ended up cycling down this road and for no particular reason stopped in this car area. We decided to dismount and have a wander in the woods. This place is usually deserted aside from one man and his dog, and a woman and her plastic bag. But on this day, there was a theatre group performing a seaside themed mime to the song 'Magic Moments. We were invited by them to come and watch, and they offered us food and drink and a place to put our bikes. Dad and I weren't particularly theatre people but it was just such a random happening that we couldn't not enjoy it. After the performance finished we thanked them, got on our bikes and rode on through to the next village pub. It was such a bizarre and unexpected moment that it has always stuck in my mind. It might even be on of my favourite memories of time with dad. It made me think that when I was with dad, any sort of good things could happen, unexpected random things. It's never a mistake to get off the couch and go out because you don't know what might be going on out there. And whatever you come across embrace it as an experience of life, even if it's not typically your thing. Just live life like dad because he was a downright pro at it.
