I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately. How freely we spread our words, for better or for worse. How words have completely different connotations depending on context. How using the term ‘heart attack’ colloquially is never a good idea when talking to one of your oldest friends, whose father has just died of an unexpected heart attack. How it’s impossible not to dwell on words you wish you could take back. You are never more aware of the throw-away words you use than when you know how they could hurt someone. Sometimes apologies aren’t really an option. Sometimes it’s irrelevant. I’m getting to the stage in my life where I think that loss may become somewhat of a norm. It’s terrifying. I have gotten rid of so many toxic people and relationships throughout my life, a lot of them family members, that the ones I keep close mean more to me than the world. It means that if loss is to become par for the course, it is going to impact me and hurt me so much in years to come.
Photography from a summer road trip between Orlando and Key West.
Ah the best laid intentions. I was going to climb Ben Nevis today for the first time. I was up at 5am, packed my bag, donned my hiking boots, opened the door to rain.
Its been three hours and the weather forecast still claims it’s dry outside. Ah well. There goes my good day of fitness. And productivity. I really shouldn’t have let my mum put the tv on. But tea and lounging is just an inescapable reality of being at home.
I’m having tea at my uncles. Mum and him are talking over each other as usual, fighting for soundwave dominance. Family is funny like that. Fighting in such a loving manner. They steal ideas off of each other. Holidays, furniture types, bathroom designs. It’s a hilarious battle for sibling dominance between two entirely different people (other than their big ears).
I should consider putting a ban on home renovation discussions. Or make more tea. Probably more tea.