Solace in a tin of wax.

Well, did I blink and miss summer?

Woken today to pots blown about the garden, courgettes wilted in the cold and bedraggled potato leaves.

And reflecting on a week which stirred up so many long forgotten memories and what ifs.

So, in an attempt (largely unsuccessful) to banish these thoughts I have thrown myself into painting.

There is something very therapeutic about waxing furniture.

Which is probably just as well, as I have six unloved little side tables arriving on Thursday, along with numerous pastel hues of paint.

A new perspective. Making peace with my past, 6 years on.

2011.
A year of change, a year that spun out of control emotionally, financially and every which way.

2011.
The year my son left home for uni.
The year the rug was well and truly pulled from under my feet at work.
The year that Gibraltar got caught in the crossfire, when I pushed away someone who was getting too close.

Everyone has a defining year, for good or bad, and this was mine.
It had a snowball effect on every aspect of my life, and only now, with the benefit of hindsight, can I look back objectively.


And make peace.
And to Jan and to Josh, I could have handled things differently.