You Capture this week is Hope. Being a generally optimistic person, I'm always hoping for things. I hope, for example, that it will rain when I need to get the groceries, because I love walking in the rain (wish granted today!).
I hope that when peak oil strikes, instead of all moaning and groaning about how we can't use our cars anymore, we all gaily begin riding bicycles festooned with wicker baskets and flowers, therefore averting the need to invade oil-producing countries and/or start an energy war (admittedly I don't have very high hopes for this one, but I hope nonetheless)
I hope that loads of friends come around and drink tea out of my lovely vintage tea cups, which have been wrapped in newspaper and lurking around in boxes for far too long. None of the rental places we had before we bought this house were worthy of the tea cups, but now that are out. Hoorah!
I often find myself hoping to have more children. This is a very foolish hope indeed, since you can't actually have a child without a uterus (it was removed in an emergency operation when Grumbles was born - you can read the grisly details here, but be warned: this story is not for the faint-hearted). Yet still I find myself wishing for another little one. I imagine their sweet ducking hair, their chubby little fingers, their own particular quirks and traits. I imagine the clothes I would have made for them, and the way they might like to be tickled, or how they would like to crawl into our bed in the wee hours, and how their sweet eyelashes flutter as they snore gently through the night. I stand there, frozen mid-task, letting them run amok in my imagination for a few blissful moments before I remember, like a stab to the heart, that it's not possible, and I'd best put those thoughts back into a box marked "Do Not Open Unless You Want To Do Your Own Head In."
I hate that bloody box. And I hate how flat I feel after my thud back to earth. So I spend a couple of minutes hoping to feel better, and after a couple of hours have passed I usually do.
And then Grumbles tells me she wishes she has a brother or a sister, and my heart explodes in my chest into a thousand sharp shards of glass all over again.
I hope Grumbles has a happy life, but one with it's fair share of challenges to remind her that complacency can be just as much as a danger as a comfort. I hope that she knows that she can make the changes she want to see, and that she has the courage of her convictions when action is required. I hope that she continues evolving, and spends a wonderful life learning and marvelling at the world she is a part of.
I hope I make a difference to you, reading my little old blog. I hope that whatever I write somehows makes your day a little bit better. You've taken the time to come and visit - I hope that you like what you find. And I hope you keep coming back for more!
Happy weekend, folks. Hopefully on Monday I'll have a painted green dress to show you. One last hope: that it doesn't look as serpentine in the photos as I fear it might!