I spent a lot of time recently mending a quilt that had developed a shocking number of holes and rips. I’m not what you’d call a skilled mender. But the family is deeply in love with the new, messily patched version of this quilt. “Homey!” says Armin. “It looks like a quilt that has been through a lot,” says the 9yo, admiringly. It does.
It’s been an odd and bumpy summer, littered with disappointments and slip-ups, and plenty of evidence that I really don’t cope well with an overly full life. I’ve been worn a bit thin and the holes are beginning to show. Now, today, I’m starting the second of my new jobs – the first will continue till October at the latest, plus I have two big design deadlines coming up, so there’s a solid two months before things ease up. You’d think my just-passed summer holiday might have helped, but it didn’t really, for family reasons.
So the game now is to enjoy the messy patches for what they are: part of a busy, lived-in sort of life. If I lose my sodding keys yet again,
that doesn’t actually mean I’m useless. If I have to cancel social plans for the sake of my sanity, so be it. If I have to scale back on projects, too bad. Shit happens. I may not feel quite ready to gild the cracks
, but I can live with them.