the sense of a beginning

I don’t know why, but today feels like the beginning of something new. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it’s probably a combination of things. Starting afresh with a completely new website design is a very welcome change. I’ve been dissatisfied with the look of my website ever since I first created it, but have put off changing it for two reasons: (a) fear of it all going wrong, and (b) not knowing what I actually wanted. I’m very happy with this new white, minimalist look, though, and it makes me want to post more, just to see the shiny new entries come up on the front page. My only regrets are: losing my lovely sheep header (now it feels like the name of this site doesn’t make sense – though did it ever?), and a worry that my content is in no way trendy enough to deserve such a trendy design as this. But hey ho. Trendy will just have to get used to me and The Wind-Up Sheep.

Perhaps this feeling of new is also due to the fact that earlier this afternoon I walked D to the station, as he has gone for a week of communing with underground machines far away up North, and came home alone to an empty house and a full Sunday ahead of me. I think what I love most about weekends is just the promise of what I could do, more than what I actually do. What I did do was clear up the garden: I pulled up all the dead courgette plants, and collected the baby squishes that never quite made it into full-grown squash, I cleared all the yellow leaves off the netting over the cabbages, pulled up the dead tomato plants, dug up the purply beetroot plantlets that never quite got around to growing beetroots (though most of their companions did) and did some general weeding. It felt good.

Then I cleaned up the house a bit and hoovered all the nibbly crumbs off the floor after lots of people came round last night. And I think the new feeling is partly due to this as well: I don’t think I’ve seen our living room look this clean and tidy since we first moved in. Seeing this sight has had a curious effect, and it almost feels as though we have just moved in, and this is a brand new house. Of course, this feeling disappears as soon as I go into any other room, but it feels so fresh sitting in here. It’s as though there has been some large upheaval, which is now over. Or as though I’ve transitioned into some new life¬†phase. Both of these possibilities, however, are far too grandiose to suggest with any seriousness. So I suppose it is simply a matter of lots of little things all changing at once, and giving the impression of a major alteration. Strangely cathartic.

Whatever the reason, though, I rather like this sensation, as somehow everything feels full of potential right now, and there’s not such a White Rabbit feeling of always being too late for everything, and watching it all fly past, out of reach. I guess it’s sort of like the effect of spring cleaning, but in autumn. Maybe that’s why I’m so confused…