2.5 kidneys, & every available Chris de Burgh video

It has been an extended Christmas break for me, a gap in between contracts, and a chance to spend time with family in both Cheshire and Scotland. I'm actually still in Aviemore as I write this, the snow has arrived, and everything feels pretty magical. I'll be returning to the Lake District tomorrow though, and I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone there. I've been reminded again of the importance of taking time away, even from something you love, and from a place that feels like home. 

It certainly hasn't been a quiet, uneventful three weeks, though! In fact, if anything, things became even more chaotic. That is the absolute maddening joy of having a big family. On the morning I was traveling down, I received a text message from my mum. 'Just to let you know - Rob, Claire, Maeve, Claire, James, Oscar, Rory, Jen, Hamish, & Brian are here today. You might have to sleep in your van.' To be fair, it's likely that I would have been kicked out of the house anyway....something to do with playing indoor rugby & bows and arrows with my niece and nephew (much to the disapproval of my lovely but order-loving step dad). I think the tipping point was when I suggested that we all had a scrum in the middle of the living room. The world was soon afforded a little peace though, as one by one, Rob, Claire, & I came down with a 'killer' bought of the flu. The most worrying symptom of the illness was my sudden lack of desire to eat chocolate, & a close second was being awake at 3 in the morning trying to explain to my mum why we wouldn't make very good Russians. After a week in bed, and having watched every available Chris de Burgh video on YouTube, I was at long last able to leave the house. The destination was Snowdonia, for a little walk, and to call in at Rory & Jen's for a 'coo-eee' & a cup of tea. Rory was actually out on a Llanberis Mountain Rescue call out when we arrived, & Jen wasn't back from her long, long run. So we spent the intervening time searching their kitchen cupboards for some regular tea bags.  

Perhaps one of the most interesting/bizarre conversations I had over the festive period was a Whatsapp chat with my friend Jane. I can't quite remember the dialogue that preceded her saying, 'I have two and a half kidneys', but that & what followed was fairly memorable. My initial reaction (after verifying that said information was not a typo) was one of astonishment - that I had known her for so long, but didn't know this. "How is that not the first thing you ever told me about yourself? Surely you must introduce yourself to everyone with your name and then that bit of information?" I was then keen to know whether this extra half kidney was there by accident or design, and if it worked and she didn't need it had she ever considered selling it on eBay? Apparently she hadn't, but thinking it to be an excellent idea she went to look into it straight away. After a brief silence I received another message from Jane, "I've added a description of the item....one (fairly) careful owner, but I'm not really sure how the 'buyer collects' option is going to work." 

It hasn't all been madness, though. On the quieter side of things, the quieter side which everyone knows is really a raging storm, a chance to think. We throw ourselves headlong into other things to avoid this place, or at least to avoid experiencing it all at once. I was chatting to a good friend a few days ago, chatting and listening to her speak about the recent and heartbreaking death of her mother. In many ways life is entirely about loss. Everything comes but to go. That doesn't mean we are ever able to make sense of it, though. It is never, ever easy. Because it stays, and can stay with us forever. Though often thought of as an absence, loss can hold a far greater presence in our lives than perhaps anything else. In all this, death makes life impossible to ignore. It is the great reminder to leave nothing unspoken. Whether it's sorry, thank you, forgiveness, love, gratitude, friendship - remember to tell people, & what they mean to you. 

 

Slightly later than planned (due to the flu) I headed up to Scotland, to Aviemore. I had been wanting to visit Glen Affric for some time now, & on the first available sunny day I drove north and slightly west inland. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and despite the temperature being barely above freezing (if at all), I couldn't resist a quick skinny dip! I'm not sure it was entirely sensible, given that I still hadn't recovered 100% from being ill, but I did at least find a completely ice free pool! Al & Naomi had some choice words to say about my sanity when I got back, and my friend Kirsten (the other Kirsten) commented on my Facebook photo, "haven't you just recovered from bird flu?!" (No. Not bird flu). The skinny dipping continued in Glen Feshie, and along with nighttime trail running in the snow around the forests of Glenmore, Al and Naomi tried to make me promise not to do anything too crazy. I reluctantly ruled out rowing to the Orkney Isles in an inflatable dingy, and sledging on the A9 down into Inverness (both of which I had been trying to talk Al into). But anything & everything else was still on the table, and everyone seemed pretty happy about that.