Wednesday 19 August 2015

Secret diaries

I dreamed last night that Thomas the Hun was staying with us, and we looked out of the window to see about 6 inches of snow everywhere. Very unseasonable, especially for August.

I opened the window and it flew in in a great flurry, cold and wet to the touch as I tried to scoop it out again. It went immediately dark just as Thomas took photos of it, but the ceiling was illuminated with the reflected light, just as I remember some pre-dawn, Christmas mornings when I was a kid.

It is Step-Daughter's birthday today and it is raining. Apparently it always rains on her birthday. 47 - who would have thought it. My daughter is stopping off this afternoon on her way back from a Cornish camping holiday. 44 - who would have thought it.

I am mildly melancholic today, and this post is sounding like a diary entry. I have never kept a diary, but I was given a leather-clad one as a boy, which had a lockable clasp and a key. I suppose I was meant to keep secrets in it, but I could not think of any.

This was just as well, because I found that my older brother had picked the simple lock and opened it one day. Disappointed in the sparsity of secrets, he just quoted one boring line from it to let me know that I could not keep secrets from him anyway. He, on the other hand, was very good at secrets.

Green Eyes was pretty good at white-lying when she was a kid, and - for all I know - she probably still is. She would take me upstairs to her room and honour me by showing the vast stash of sweets which she kept hidden in a box under her bed, accumulated over quite a period of time.

At that time, she had an imaginary friend called 'Doo-Doo'. He lived on the roof, and never came down from there. I don't think they ever talked to each other.

Every now and then, I would ask her if Doo-Doo was still on the roof, and she would say 'yes'. They have moved house many times since her childhood, and Doo-Doo didn't move with her.

Every now and then, I ask if Doo-Doo is still on the roof of that house, and she says 'yes'.

I don't know how she knows that, living in London as she does and knowing that they have never spoken to each other, let alone stayed in contact.


16 comments:

  1. Such a Monet post. I suppose Doo-Doo remains in the realm of white-lies and you quit believing.
    My oldest daughter turned fifty this year. When I was fifty, she was moans and groans--do you know how old this makes me feel? she asked. I considered turning the remark on her this year, but did not.

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  2. My birthday is coming up, and I usually grow melancholy as I think about what i'd like to do, what I must do, and how much is left undone.

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    1. I always say that it is impossible to 'waste' time. It's quite easy to waste other people's though.

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  3. Considering that I eventually made my living by writing, I have never kept a diary for fear someone might read it and expose my inner feelings and secret adventures to the world. Though I do love the Oscar Wilde quote, " I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train."

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    1. In Wilde's case, a bit too sensational. I like hearing adults read their own, excruciating teenage diaries. That takes courage.

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  4. It's usually young women in Agatha Christie 'who-done-its' who keep diaries. I never have, although, like you, I was given them for Christmas etc. They remained untouched.

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    1. The trouble with writing a diary as an adult is that you can change your own history. I absolutely love Pepys ones, though - mainly because he never intended them to be read.

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  5. No wonder you are in melancholic mood if you let your thoughts (and your odd dreams) go on like this!

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    1. I thought this......its all feels a bit glum

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    2. I was trying to lift the mood with my comment.

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    3. Well I did admit to feeling a bit glum in the post, but I felt much better by the end of the day.

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  6. You will have a lovely afternoon/evening. Enjoy it.

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  7. Hello All - I am too knackered to reply individually to everyone tonight, but Rachel was right. I had a lovely time and it was a joy to see how well my daughter and grandchildren are doing. I was uplifted.

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  8. My eldest son is 44 and the youngest is 32. Now looking back those ages seem young! Glad you are feeling uplifted after a lovely time...

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    1. Tell me about it. I never thought a 45 year-old woman would consider me as too old for her...

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