a long way down

I am trying to understand why I am so angry with what seems to be something so inconsequential.

Watching A LONG WAY DOWN the programme of Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman going through Africa on their bikes
( their last trip The Long Way Round- became something of a favourite for me and my 16 year old daughter) I was spluttering with rage when Ewan announced that his wife wanted to come along. Or at least meet up and spend 2 and a half weeks biking alongside them.

Incensed.

She can't even ride a bike it seems. And Charlie Boorman looked less than happy.

It stirred up a sort of murderous rage which seemed far too strong to be just about this poor woman's wish to see her husband and share his experience. I just wanted her to let the boys have their adventure for God's Sake. In the same way that if I was going on an adventure with a friend I would not want their partner along. It changes the whole dynamic. And as Charlie said, he would feel like a spare prick.

Immediately I had her down for a needy, jealous woman, who couldn't bear not to be a part of everything in her husband's life. Did this I wonder relate to my being the lover of a married man where there are invisible boundaries (her time and my time?) Could I be so transparent?

I don't think it is about that, but I do think I have a problem with needy clingy people- men or women and that that reflects on the fact that I never would dream of asking to be included in something so obviously nothing to do with me . Interestingly my heart and affection went out to Boorman's wife, who with a collapsed lung in hospital hated the idea of her husband postponing the trip on account of her. My sort of gal. I love people, and I love my man, but I do not want to be attached at the hip; not he to mine or me to his....

Incidentally, my dreams were wonderful. Biking round Africa myself with Ewan and Boorman...

Growing up

The day begins early. My daughter no longer wakes me, I hear her singing to music as she gets ready for school. It is a delight that finally school has become a place she wants to go to, not something to be dreaded. Finally she is in sixth form, doing all the subjects she likes, with many free periods and the teachers treating her as an adult. In many ways she has longed for this time. She has been mature in some ways beyond her years, ignoring the peer pressure for alcohol , drugs and sex, and standing alone. Now she has dancing out of school and she is lit up. She has found her crowd. The crowd that range from 17-78 that like her for who she is. In other ways she is still a little girl. Cautious of going out by herself after dark or getting buses to places she doesn't know. But little by little her confidence is growing and she is becoming the wonderful woman she has been destined to inhabit. Caution is not such a bad thing. It keeps her within her own limits. But when she dances. WOW. She is something. Like a bird in flight. My little girl is growing up.

Struggling on with novel. I have now gone back to the beginning so that I can edit what is now appearing as total rubbish. Anyway I need to get familar with the story again as it seems to grow legs and run in all directions. Editing will cut off some of the blighters. Once I edit to where I am then I can resume the plot which hopefully will feel more streamlined!!!
And today, after writing I shall take a well earned rest and read the novel I am reading. There are so many books I want to read at the moment, and they all get in the way of doing the work on the novel that I need to do.