Ah, the curse of Shoebox Sunday - it's here again, which means the hell of Christmas is only a stone's throw away. Damn it. For those not in the know (you lucky people, you ...), this is - in the Anglican church, and perhaps in others too, though I don't know for sure - the time when we all have to go out and buy toys to put in shoeboxes to send to children in the developing world. Lord only knows what they make of sparkly balls and white-faced dolls when they probably haven't eaten for a week, but far be it from me to attempt to rock the diocesan boat. If only we didn't have to wrap the damn shoeboxes up before we deliver them, then I'm sure many marriages would be calmer and the police stations sleepier. Hell, have you ever tried to wrap a bloody shoebox? It's impossible.
Naturally, I took the only course of action available to me at this point - after all, I hate children!! - and left it entirely to Lord H, and skipped church. However, in the general mild depression I'm currently wading through, I didn't do the writing I'd planned to do - and barely scraped out 400 words to "The Gifting" before giving it up as a bad job and playing Solitaire instead. Actually, I sometimes wonder if I should give up writing altogether, if only on a temporary basis, until the clouds have passed. Hmm, something to ponder on perhaps.
That said, I was given an unexpected boost by some lovely comments on "Pink Champagne and Apple Juice" by a writing friend (thanks, Gill - who can be found at http://www.gilljames.co.uk) and also from Joanie at Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) on the haiku I uploaded this morning. Thanks, Joanie. Much appreciated.
The rest of the day has heaved itself by. There was an interesting article in the latest "Church Times" though, which I devoured - all about Christians and depression. I really clicked with the comment from a Canon about how his depression felt as if he were carrying round a lead ball in his stomach all the time. Hey, mate - yes. You've got it in one. That's exactly how it feels - 90% of the time. The rest of the time I'm probably asleep. Anyway, it's inspired me to buy a book recommended on Amazon (http://www.amazon.co.uk) about the subject - which apparently isn't judgemental, demanding or shallow. Good, I like warm and woolly. I get enough damnfool comments or implied criticism elsewhere. I need something to say what's real about how I am now. Not how I should be.
So, this week's haiku:
Home pressures dissolve,
interior skies lighten:
a few days away.
And today's nice things:
1. Not going to church
2. Bakewell pudding for lunch
3. A glass of pre-lunch sherry.