Weekend frivolity

I am pretty sure that for the whole of my life so far my poor mother has dreaded my tendency towards boredom. As I have grown older I have found productive ways to fill my time; little projects here and there, painting, generally making a mess, but, even now, in my early thirties, Mum still gets the occasional phone call: "it's my day off tomorrow, shall we go out somewhere nice?"

Friday saw us traipsing off to Oxford where I purchased a small set of seasonal candles from Culpeper and some poppy seed heads. I love seed heads and I love the Covered Market in Oxford where you can find all sorts of wonderful things. At Christmas the butcher hangs out whole deer carcasses and rabbits and pigs and I love it! I know that sounds terribly blood thirsty and carnivorous but it does feel so festive and Dickensian.

I also have home grown tomatoes ready for brushetta this evening and two vintage pillow cases purchased from a car boot on Sunday. I don't usually go in for second hand bed linen but these were so lovely and look and feel so old and of such good quality that I couldn't resist. The lady on the stall had a remarkable array of goodies; glass bottles of rose scented linen water, old perfume bottles and original oil paintings of small french villages. I go to enough car boots with Mum to know that these kinds of stalls are few and far between, it makes it worth wading through all that Primark and Matalan crap.

Term starts next week and I still have a huge amount of prep to do for my classes but for now I'm just happy snuggling into my sofa with my candles burning and a good book- there are two on the go at the moment depending on my mood Inkheart by Cornelia Funke and Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel.

What do I do now?

It doesn't feel like it's been the most productive of weekends, even with the extra day off. Sunday's car boot was semi successful (no body wanted the bears though. Poor bears), though Autumn made it's sly presence felt with chilly winds and drizzle.

The painting is finished (I think) and I feel slightly downhearted. I always do when I finish a piece of work and I never know what to do next, I will no doubt spend the next week in a bit of a funk, doing very little but reading the odd book and mooching. And that's life really isn't it? You always have to keep thinking about what to do next. School's over? What now? Finished your degree? What now? Boyfriend dumped you, marriage over? What shall I do now? We all just keep going after the next thing not really sure that it's what we want.

I've just been feeling a little bit narked about the whole thing this week. We have the property ladder to keep us acquiring bigger and better houses, this is like the life ladder and I don't like it. I should think it's tied up with having to move back home, I don't really know why but it doesn't really feel like I'm living, it's all a bit safe and warm. So, what do I do now?