KILKEA Look , everything's changing, new green, palest pink appleblossom ," my husband nudges me "see the lightening ", so I do, and he is right. We are walking in beautiful Kilkee Castle, clutching on to each other more or less, after a rough raw week. I am worrying at some impenetrably knotty parenting quandaries, he is pale and recovering from a shattering flu.We tread a well worn path, past the shadowy old graveyard, the last best tended grave with its heavy burden of children, through the arched Castle Gate and out under ancient oaks, copper beeches, sycamores until our jerky striding slips into an easeful tandem. The war has not gone away, but my vision expands from a pin point of baffled fury till I find my place in the vast greening universe
OPPRESSION
The evening before I am told by an indignant hissing Boy that: I am too strict, will only allow one hour's internet use daily; true. Will not allow TV sets in the bedrooms; true. All his friends have TV sets in their bedrooms; unlikely! Harrass him with daily doses of fish oils; true. As though he needed to be medicated; maybe. Force him to rise at 7.30am for the school bus when it is my job to drive him; guilty. Insist he study for an unconscionable three hours nightly; what can I say. And impose strict deadlines on visits to his mates, reacting in rabid unreasonable fashion every times he is late; True true true. But then he is always visiting and always late. Oh AND ALSO his sister is equally aggrieved with my hardline hardcore parenting.... and...and none of his friends' parents etc etc etc; hmmm, may or not be true. Basically he and she have had enough and they are not taking it any more; ???. Right.
THE HEART WILL HAVE ITS SOUNDTRACK
Anyway, it all led to a painful falling out between myself and my husband. He, poor man, midst his hacking and shivering made the fundamental mistake of explaining to me WHERE I WAS GOING WRONG. As, on the contrary, in fact, I was too amenable, a tad inconsistent, over indulgent even. But...but...but ..NOT!. And at that we were simply derailed. I, overwrought and unforgiving, unable to locate the reason why I married him in the first place, left him huddled deathly pale on the sofa and took to the bed where I fingered and brooded on my sufferings. And the damnest thing, David Bowie's song Ashes to Ashes played on a loop in my head, that whole time. We were listening to his new CD earlier you see. Don't you?
PROMISES
But not for long because hey we are married and you can't get out of that one without a tsunami, and also I need him like air. So I rose from my bed, grabbed my coat and his hand and made for Kilkea, where we wander like refugees both in a mighty cathedral under the open sky. We walk and we talk and we promise each other honesty, kindness, to sidestep the fear and loathing when you cannot let love in, and distance is the cruelest thing. We promise. And we go home
HEART WANTS WHAT HEART WANTS
Much later on he finds and plays Scott Walker's version of "If you Go Away" on his magical I Pod for me, because it was haunting my head all evening
OPPRESSION
The evening before I am told by an indignant hissing Boy that: I am too strict, will only allow one hour's internet use daily; true. Will not allow TV sets in the bedrooms; true. All his friends have TV sets in their bedrooms; unlikely! Harrass him with daily doses of fish oils; true. As though he needed to be medicated; maybe. Force him to rise at 7.30am for the school bus when it is my job to drive him; guilty. Insist he study for an unconscionable three hours nightly; what can I say. And impose strict deadlines on visits to his mates, reacting in rabid unreasonable fashion every times he is late; True true true. But then he is always visiting and always late. Oh AND ALSO his sister is equally aggrieved with my hardline hardcore parenting.... and...and none of his friends' parents etc etc etc; hmmm, may or not be true. Basically he and she have had enough and they are not taking it any more; ???. Right.
THE HEART WILL HAVE ITS SOUNDTRACK
Anyway, it all led to a painful falling out between myself and my husband. He, poor man, midst his hacking and shivering made the fundamental mistake of explaining to me WHERE I WAS GOING WRONG. As, on the contrary, in fact, I was too amenable, a tad inconsistent, over indulgent even. But...but...but ..NOT!. And at that we were simply derailed. I, overwrought and unforgiving, unable to locate the reason why I married him in the first place, left him huddled deathly pale on the sofa and took to the bed where I fingered and brooded on my sufferings. And the damnest thing, David Bowie's song Ashes to Ashes played on a loop in my head, that whole time. We were listening to his new CD earlier you see. Don't you?
PROMISES
But not for long because hey we are married and you can't get out of that one without a tsunami, and also I need him like air. So I rose from my bed, grabbed my coat and his hand and made for Kilkea, where we wander like refugees both in a mighty cathedral under the open sky. We walk and we talk and we promise each other honesty, kindness, to sidestep the fear and loathing when you cannot let love in, and distance is the cruelest thing. We promise. And we go home
HEART WANTS WHAT HEART WANTS
Much later on he finds and plays Scott Walker's version of "If you Go Away" on his magical I Pod for me, because it was haunting my head all evening
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