Where do you go to my lovelies, when you’re alone in your bed?

Sleep in the time of Corona is as different as love is. There is nothing to get up early for, so there’s nothing to go to bed early for. Yet strangely, I go to bed early. It’s driven by a general boredom that sees me keen to cross off another day of ennui in the open-ended list. 

The rotating samey tv is getting very tedious, especially when you have developed the concentration span of a gnat.So it’s slope off to bed early, per chance to dream? Yeah right? 

These nights are weird, long, and very unsexy. All those reports of tripling of turnover (haha) in the sex toy trade doesn’t quite cut it in the  elderly uni-bubbles. Well possibly I’m assuming too much for my fellow unis -  I’ll just have to speak for myself then. 

So in our dreamworld we go other places- Laura and I dream of our Spanish days- long, hot, tiring and magical. Every day something new and fantastic happened to us and even though we were often exhausted,we were out there, doing it. 

Now during the night, we send each other photos of green Spanish fields and orchards weighted down with ripe apples destined for the local cider industry. A  fantastic coffee and dorm rooms and big glasses of Vino Tinto. And photos of oh so magnificent pastries too good to eat - but we did. It seems like a dream now but a good one to get you through this. Laura had booked her flights Portugal to walk the Portuguese Camino with a strong and brave friend. They will not be going this year for sure- maybe next. We can dream. 

I am living fully inside my head now; uni-bubble brain re-education is complete but I’m lucky, I am old. I have a lifetime of memories to keep me going through the night and many days to come. I remember back over my life, in ten year blocks, childhood, teenage, travel, raising young children,developing a career( a few careers actually) and the these last 8 years of losing Brian and then making the life of a widow. That part still doesn’t make sense- I guess it never will. 

So- what is the point of this midnight ramble? I think it is that these long sleepless nights where we walk  around the house in our PJs eating chocolate and considering a red wine (medicinal you understand), are to be treasured. A rare opportunity when there is no new information (other than our daily date with Ashley),  which will distract us from ruminating through our memories in a leisurely and indulgent fashion.

It’s amazing what pops back up. I was remembering our camping holidays at the nudist camp in Mapua earlier- what fun it was- who would have guessed! The camp was spacious with lots of big trees, much better then the cramped work-camp conditions in nearby Nelson. We lay about on in our togs on the hot beach amongst a whole heap of people in the nude and no one cared.  And the kids had a ball; fully clothed, they were picked up each morning in a fire engine (an old one) and taken off for a great outdoor adventure programme where they made flying foxes and swam in the warm safe estuary and played extended games of cricket until sundown. Those were the days. A few of you will remember them too- fondly I hope (maybe not Damian?? ). 

So now that I am becoming Covo- zen and a truly self- actualised advice giver, I say wallow, wallow, wallow in your sleepless nights, wallow in your memories. No need to look forward, it’s too unpredictable right now so let’s all look back and relive the edited highlights of our lives so far instead. 

It works for me.

PS The picture is Peter Sarstedt who had that massive hit in 1969 and from whom I stole the title. It was a great song about a woman who had transcended her poor background in the streets of Naples but I always remember it had a line : 

“You sip your Napoleon brandy” but my sister-in-law misheard it as: “You dip your nipple in brandy”. Still makes me laugh.

Kia kaha everyone - hopefully more than halfway there. Arohanui and thanks for all your support. ♥️

Lesley