Celtic spirituality
Woke up this morning and decided that TODAY was the day to go op-shopping for warm clothes. Yesterday’s exploration of Edinburgh with Reuben saw us freezing in the rain, hail and icy winds. Trudging over puddled cobblestones with the hail bouncing off my soggy beanie, I silently vowed to NEVER AGAIN go out in inclement weather unless better prepared. So ACTION STATIONS, a’ op-shopping we will go. I’m thinking balaclavas, ski-overalls, and those coats that look like sleeping bags with arms.
Of course, going anywhere with a baby/toddler takes a while.
So first I must wade through the preparatory tasks;
- breakfast (includes lesson for baby in how to eat with a spoon)
- clean up (includes hosing down of all surfaces that suffered the results of spoon-mismanagement)
- wash up (punctuated with swift movements to and fro various rooms to plot baby’s trail of destruction)
- change nappy (despite protestations)
- dress baby (despite rigorous wriggling)
- pack nappy bag
- pack food bag
- pack shelley bag (purse, cash, glasses, keys blah blah)
- dress baby in additional cardigan, coat, scarf and hat (despite back-arching reluctance from Reuben)
- take stroller and bags down 2 flights of stairs
- return to take baby down 2 flights of stairs
- unfold stroller and insert baby in stroller (threading various limbs through relevant straps)
- put on my own coat, scarf, beanie and gloves
Now ready, I open the front door.
It’s raining.
Hard.
The Celts have a strong and powerful spirituality. As I trudge upstairs I ponder that perhaps this is because the weather is so bad, there is nothing to do but go inside and pray for better weather.