With a lot of help from my friends

I said, when I was last here, that February is a difficult month. This weekend, I climbed over another hurdle. My birthday. The second without The Husband and the first, in two, that I have actively celebrated.

It was a conscious decision made quite rashly, I thought, on the day.

I woke up, as usual on Saturday and realised that seeing people, and having them fuss over me was not going to be good for me them; the potential of a soggy mess was all too real. Suddenly, the celebration I'd planned, seemed like going into the fire of hell.

When I planned my gathering - I don't want to call it a party - I chose carefully, not making a huge public announcement WhatsApp group. Over the last while, I have found friends among a group of disparate people, some of whom are not friends with each other. It can be awkward. Some of them choose not to be grown up, and when they see who else will be at an event, don't go.

Call me selfish, call me cruel, but after having been forced out of my comfort zone for most of the last nearly two years, I decided - To hell with all of that! and invited whom I wanted to invite.

They all came. Except the one person who asked who else was coming. Then, they didn't have the grace to politely decline. Perhaps I'm being judgy, but that tells me something, too. It also means they're unlikely to get another invitation.

Back to that evening. It was, as usual, a bring and share and the table was - again - laden with delicious food.

And two desserts.

How did everyone get on?

Thank you for asking: very well. Some folk who hadn't had a conversation for over a year, actually did. And laughed together.

That warms my heart. It makes me glad I pushed them - and me - out of our comfort zones. Again.

Did I enjoy myself? I did. And, apparently it showed:

The last guest left in the early hours of Sunday morning after helping me tidy up the most important bits, and joining me on the stoep for another glass of wine and an unwind natter.

Later, after a good six-hour sleep and a lie-in with tea, I did a grand, gradual tidy up, and sorted my yarn into a birthday basket that must have been designed especially for that purpose.

As the end of February approaches, I recognise I have taken another big baby step forward. I am grateful to my posse of people who walk alongside me.

Until next time
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma
Post script

I blog here, on Instagram and via WordPress to my own website. I write for love and a living and you'll find out more about that here. Content for the first two, and sometimes the last, cross pollinate.

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Original artwork: @artywink

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