Equinox

Happy Birthday, Prince William, sir!

Today is the longest day! The Summer Equinox! Is that right? It can’t be, surely. It seems like five minutes ago when I declared to The Four Little Seymours that “It is December the twenty-first! The Shortest Day! It’s all going to get better from here on in!”

What I was thinking, of course, was that we could look forward to the end of mouldy walls, breath that condensed as it was exhaled and rivulets on the inside windows of the Funny Little Bungalow.
And OK, those things are behind us. Most of the mouldy walls have been demolished, the rickety roof is a memory and The Biting Cold is now actually quite an attractive prospect, given the current heat wave. (No, I am not complaining!)

There’s something about the shortest day that makes me happy. Winter has its moments, but spring is better. The 21st of December always seems to come around very quickly. Never mind the fact that January and February – arguably the worst months, are yet to come. The evenings start to get longer at that point, and that is something to celebrate. Especially when you are living in a bungalow that is marked for destruction and all insulation has been erroneously removed.

But what was I thinking? Things are going to get easier? Pah. I must have had my Optimism Blinkers on. Looking back now, it suddenly becomes very clear that I was in denial. Moving out of the Funny Little Bungalow was not on my radar. I knew it was happening, but I wasn’t processing the actual reality of it.
So when, on April Fools’ Day, we did move out, Big Seymour knew what was to come. He was aware of what he had to do. I wonder how he coped with that prospect? Such an enormous task!

It’s now The Longest Day, and I am not going to make any sweeping statements to the Four Little Seymours about what that might mean. There are positives to reaching this point – the roof structure construction is now behind us (phew!), the tiles are supposed to be arriving tomorrow (yippee! – although they are STILL the wrong colour), and we are all (most importantly) thankfully alive. I joke not – I have been very scared at times.
We are muddling along in The Shed, although bed times are getting more ridiculous, as the Four Little Seymours have decided that the novelty of sleeping side-by-side on a ledge is no longer fun. Mini Seymour, in particular, has a ritual of Unnecessary Wailing and Moaning at every bed time, which lasts intolerably long, and Boy Seymour, pox or no pox, delights in invading the others’ space on purpose, just because he can. I am worried for the literary development of Little Seymours One and Two, as they are struggling to read in bed, and that concerns me…
But it’s just a phase! The Shortest Day turned into the Longest Day all too soon. I know there will be fresh challenges ahead – it may be hot in The Shed right now, but if we are still living in here come January, I will lament these balmy nights of June. Things could get decidedly more uncomfortable…

This whole situation is one big unknown entity. How long? How much? What if? Rather like life in general, really. The only thing we can be (almost) certain of is that the Earth will keep turning. The shortest and longest days will come around, ad infinitum, or at least until the universe breaks. The goings-on at the Funny Little Bungalow are at the centre of our world, but not The World. So I’m doing an Edith Piaf, and trusting in fate.

Big Seymour did alert me slightly last night, though, when he said he was worried about the budget. I know it’s ridiculously small, but him declaring his concern out loud is a new development. Hey – we have no other choice, really, than to just plough on. I mean, there’s no going back now, is there? There are doors and windows to order.
However, I do wonder where he is getting his current design influences from. Already, we have grey roof tiles coming. This is in addition to the large, black, wrought-iron gates he sourced from eBay.  Now, he wants a black door. Rather funereal, methinks. Not what I had in mind for my country abode at all. It’s all very well spending money we don’t have, but wasting it to turn the place into a gothic revival steampunk-esque, monochrome mini mansion is not what I had in mind…

But hang on…wait! Now I have actually thought about it, this sounds like fun! I finally know what I am working with, so hand me that iPad! I need to source me some gargoyles…