How To Become A Quaintrelle (hint…follow your bliss)

This is where I went for my work summer party last night.

haybales in sunset

I LOVE my job. Seriously never thought I’d ever say that. Well, say it again.

Working at the paper those two summers was my first. Man, what teenager gets to be a commercial artist for their summer vacation? Course, having a Mom that worked there helped.

Yet, there it is. Love what I do. Five days vacation and for the first time in my life, on the last day, no anxiety at having to return.


A few months ago, three of my co-workers, who all started at the same time with me, where chatting about our shared beginnings together with this innovative project that created our jobs.

And I said: “You know, my worst day here, would have been a good day at my old job”.

One of my co-worker’s reply was…”here’s to that“. And raised his walkie-talkie in the air like a fine pint of ale.

All it took was having enough at where I was, and LITERALLY walking away. Eh, Mom?

Like, literally.

Just let go. Said…what if?

Sure, then agonised for a few weeks afterwards, as certain poverty and possible homelessness loomed on the horizon. But it didn’t happen. Nope. Dear god, I worried.

Then one phone call, and the most amazing group interview… and here I am. What, eight months later?

Last year at this time I was wallowing in pain from my broken wrist, and dreading the day I had to return to work. Which, although I didn’t know it then, was never. But still, I thought I had two weeks at the most. After that two months away, though, man was the idea of returning a hard pill to swallow.

So I didn’t.

Now, here I am riding my snazzy old Rose to work every day, working harder for money than I ever have, and loving it. Living at the heart of where I’ve always wanted to be.

Something’s snapped open in me, Mom. It’s like everything, all the bits and pieces that I’ve collected over all these years, they’re all finally finding their place.

It’s almost scary, too, you know? Like makes me nervous about what’s to come. But, I refuse now to indulge those fears.

I decided I’m becoming a,

‎(plural quaintrelles)
1.(obscure) A woman who emphasizes a life of passion expressed through personal style, leisurely pastimes, charm, and cultivation of life’s pleasures.

Which, I guess is the feminine of a Dandy. New word.

Actually, I believe Grandma could be called a Quaintrelle.

I find myself, sitting out on the stoop, daydreaming about stuff I’ve done, languishing in the pleasure it gives me.

Like last night, on our wagon ride, and I’m sitting beside the general manager of our location, and she pointed out the moon, hanging in the sky over the cornfield.

moon over cornfield

But this bliss doesn’t just happen on summer nights, whilst circling some idyllic rural scenery, cause I’ve created my own little “bliss station“, right outside my door.

I’m determined, you know, Mom, to keep up this sense of happiness. To keep the balls in the air for as long as I can. And, when I drop them, just pick them back up and continue on.

Read recently how our brain actually reorganises our synaptic connections as we sleep. And how it weeds out the superficial, unused portions. Which, in turn, makes more room for new experiences, and thoughts.

By influencing the nature of these oscillations, this hippocampal input activates selective memories during deep sleep and causes a replay of specific memories. During such memory replay, the corresponding synapses are strengthened for long-term storage in the cortex. These results suggest the importance of the hippocampal sharp-wave ripple events in transferring memory information to the cortex.
[UCR Today | How the Brain Consolidates Memory During Deep Sleep]

In essence, I suppose this is why positive thinking actually works. BUT, you gotta get a good night’s sleep.

Funny that. I recall someone saying that a bit when I was growing up.

Also why when you live in the moment, and take time to enjoy the details, that you feel better, learn more, and have this sense of contentment. Sleep helps to re-establish our link to the present and gain as much from the experiences of daily life as we can.

So, whatever your current thoughts you give time for, whatever you spend your time on, well that is what your brain will concentrate on storing long-term.

Really gives you something to think about.

And like a hard drive, it will overwrite stuff that you no longer are using. Or, er, once you’ve stopped thinking about them that is.

Even more, the reason to move forward, keep busy with stuff that makes me happy, follow my bliss.

Anything less is a cop out.

I mean, seriously, it’s so easy. All I have to do is just sit there on my stoop, admire my garden, and quietly watch as, for instance, the pair of Cardinals set up their nest, right there in my hedgerow.

Create your own bliss.

You know how wonderful that feels? That I created something that they feel safe to raise their young within!

How fabulously cornbally is that?

As I was riding home on the school bus they had rented to transport us back and forth to the party, I got to thinking about the significance of the night.

90s outfitThe theme was the 90’s, and we were invited to dress up. So there I am, in these high-waisted jeans, my tight red Neil Young concert t-shirt (of course tucked in), wearing those white runners that woman left. And with my hair long, and that old velvet hat gave me, I was a vision in my red, white and blue.

I was married all of the 90’s I realised, too. What I wore last night, I never would have felt comfortable wearing back then. He so slowing trampled on that person I was before him, that I felt ashamed of being me. You saw me. I became fat and felt so inhibited, so lonely. When the man who had been my best friend at one time became so twisted and depressed by his childhood memories, and in time I lost my garden, my photography, and all that I was going to be.

Well, never say you can’t go back. You can. I did. And last night I felt like it was in honour of that scared person I lost back in those helium spheres.

I can not help but acknowledge you in this, though, Mom. I could never have arrived here, at this spot, in this mindset, if not for you.

You gave me everything I needed, you know. Even though you haven’t been here all these years since to hug me, reassure me, but instead you smothered me in love as I was growing up. So much so that I even had to leave, in order to get out from under it.

Left home at 19, and found this heart of Old South London, and fell in love. Sure, that ex waylaid me, but I’m back, and never again am I going to forget that person who dreamed of…well, all kinds of stuff.

I found my home, I guess one could say; inside. And, if I never realise a single one of those other things, well, it’s not so important anymore. Regardless of the destination, or whatever may come, I’m perfectly content to be where I am. Have what I have.

I am going to be a lot warier in future, though, who gets to enjoy that with me. Like, BIG TIME wary.

Funny too, you know Irish now sits right in the path of that little doorway I created through my hedgerow? The one that used to find me. And, he almost lured me away. Almost. But I have a big white fluffy dog to guard me.

Irish at the gate

No worries, Mom. I got this.




3 thoughts on “How To Become A Quaintrelle (hint…follow your bliss)

  1. I’m speechless, never read such a beautiful honour to someone’s mother and I’m pretty sure she’s very proud you in every sense of the term..Well-done, was a pleasure reading 😀


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