Leaping into Miracles

The extra day had been a delicious day of quiet and rest. It was mixed with an element of sadness. It had felt right to sit still with it all and she was grateful to have the space to do so. The woman had woken to the first day of March feeling refreshed. She had spent the day in a state of conscious restoration, taking her lead from a woman she had met 8 years previously at the hairdressers in Hoxton.

Her hairdresser had become her friend over the decades and when her wife had died, this particular woman had looked after her with such gentleness and generosity. Each week, on a Wednesday, she would go and have her hair washed and dried and she would have a pedicure or a manicure and be able to talk about her wife who the hairdresser, like so many, had loved and respected. She hadn't charged a penny and had ended each session with a hug. It was love and friendship in action and the woman would always love her friend for it.

It had been ironic really that she even had enough hair to warrant such attention. When they had first met, the woman had a buzz cut, needing it trimmed by razor at least every fortnight. Now, she had long flowing locks that she largely kept under a hat. Streaked with grey and glossy with the ministrations of an expert, it had been a clowning glory for a while. Now that menopause had hit, it was not some much crowning glory as a dry haystack that would be made wilder every night. She often thought fondly about her old haircut and wondered if she night have it again. She thought perhaps not. What was cute at 25 many bot be so at 55? Who knew.

The weekly Wednesdays at the start of widowhood in a swanky salon had meant she kept some of her sanity when grief had threatened to take it all and along the way, she met interesting women, one of whom became a friend. another woman had decided to use the tradition of women asking for a hand in marriage in leap years and had married herself. She'd even bought herself a ring. She had honoured herself.

Looking back to those times 8 years ago, she could see that they were times of ease compared to now. It was why she had decided to spend the leap year day with herself. She wasn't in need of a ring but she did need to make her commitment to herself clear and so she had withdrawn from the world, managed to sleep for two hours during the daytime and then have a dinner that included rice, potatoes and bread. A super carb top up for a system in need. It had worked wonders and she had managed to get to bed without hearing anything about the outside world. Perfect.

Today though was new day in a new month and she was all set for March to be miraculous. It had started with the deep pinks of the morning sky when she went downstairs to make tea and she was blown away once more at the sheer beauty of nature. There was the silhouette of the blackbird, just as the sun was showing its first rays and she thought about the city starting its day.

Some had already started of course and she thought about her friend who would already be waiting at the bus stop to go to her job where she kept the home running for two other friends who had high flying jobs and no time for daily domestics. It troubled the woman that her friend had to make such a journey, not through choice but because the changes to the rules meant older cars couldn't come in without paying at least an hour's wages or risking a day's work in fines. It was a shame but it was becoming clearer that the changes were going to keep coming and so people would either have to flow with them or resist and hope for revolution.

She hoped for revolution but feared what that really meant. Certainly it felt like the population needed hope and the politicians weren't offering any. What was the alternative? Revolutions in books were messy affairs that ended in bloodshed so that couldn't really be the way forward could it? She sighed. Why do you always have to ask such big questions in the morning.? Why can't you think about breakfast or what to wear? Why are you always thinking about the past and how to change the future?

These seemed like sensible, legitimate questions and of course, she had no answer. Well, she had a mini answer. She didn't want to think about breakfast because she was starting one of her new health regimes. There had been many over the years and she credited this with her general good health in the face of disease. The latest however was a specialist bone broth that one was meant to drink first thing. Committed as she was, this seemed a big ask before the birds had even begun and so, world peace and a hahalala revolution felt far more palatable.

She had hoped the pink sky meant a clear day but the rain had already started and the sky already turned grey. Hmm, not quite the start she'd hoped for but she was at least able to give her friend a lift home today and that would save that particular journey. After that, she'd have the broth and then surely the miracle of March was on its way? She hoped so. She'd read somewhere that hope is the essence of what it is to be human. That seemed pretty deep too. She hoped the broth wasn't too bad and got on with her day.