I watched the rain rivulet down the window pane. Peering beyond to the garden my gaze fell on the sopping trees and their deep, leafy green hew, darkened by the torrential downpour. Cupping my wine glass in both hands, I sipped it steadily, for comfort. A Lockdown stalwart - along with toilet paper, chocolate, Schitt's Creek and an uneasy sense of deepening dissatisfaciton with life.

In the last year, I careened wildly from wholesome, healthy and happy; to a sugar craving, disgruntled, bloated, fuming, guilt ridden basket case every month.

In 2020 I worked so hard at giving myself the permission to not know what to do all the time. To try things and mess them up. To forgive myself when I'm tetchy or pissed off.

Then randomly one day having poured my Carrot & Peanut Butter Soup, into my favourite cup, I was reminded of a beautiful concept called Wabi-sabi. It's wobbly, uneven, bumpy. Its not perfect. Its a simple design - cup, handle, 5 stars around it. I love this cup despite its imperfections, its the perfect embodiment of wabi-sabi.

This year has been a wild one – full of highs and lots of feckin lows if I’m honest. But one of the BEST things that’s come from this year for me has been reigniting my passion for writing. Over the last few years, I returned to writing but limited myself to social media posts. As a youngster I wrote poetry & prose lot but sort of abandoned that from my early 20s onwards.

Despite the dips in and out of writing, I’ve kept up diary over the decades. It’s often been full of laments, rants, plans and ideas. It is an incredible way of trying to clear my head.

I felt the rug once again pulled from under my feet and level 3 restrictions came into force on Tuesday 12am. Necessary but not easy to accept. I found myself in a bit of a state of disbelief, followed by being really pissed off and had an overwhelming urge to stomp my feet and yell. Then saying things like, it’s only for a few weeks, right? That heralded the arrival of anger, on its train, whistle blasting letting all near by know of its arrival. Anger bid me farewell and made way for the blues, I sort of hid away all week, head down, lets just get through this.

I turned 39 on Sunday last, thank you for all the kind wishes! And yesterday just for the craic we put up an old trampoline in the garden. I jumped for a good hour laughing and falling about - pure joy! But for so many women I know, trampolining brings on the fear of weeing themselves a little bit! Know what I mean? So let’s talk pelvic floor muscles ladies!

“Escape to Normality”. Usually in our day to day lives, we can’t wait for that holiday, that break, the weekend, to escape FROM normality. Where we can forego structure and the daily hum-drum, where we can do as we please to an extent…….let’s continue to escape to normality together……..