In England these summer weeks are often called the silly season. parliament is in recess, families with children are often on holiday, commercial activity drops and newspaper circulations drop in sympathy. in an effort to generate sales, newspapers print attention-grabbing headlines that would not usually get onto the front page.

other countries have other names for this time. the French call it ‘the conker tree season’, and many Scandinavian countries call it ‘pickled gherkin season’ or ‘cucumber season’.

Northern Americans call it the slow news season, or dog days of summer – this phrase for the hottest days of summer was originally coined by the Ancient Greeks, who attributed the rising heat to the ascension of the Dog Star, Sirius, in the summer skies.

in Homer’s Iliad, the ascension of Sirius is associated with oncoming heat, fevers and evil, as Achilles approaches Troy:

‘like to the star that cometh forth at harvest-time,
and brightly do his rays shine amid the host of stars in the darkness of night,
the star that men call by name the Dog of Orion. Brightest of all is he,
yet withal is he a sign of evil, and bringeth much fever upon wretched mortals.

still feeling rather wretched, here, yesterday. Mr Prim being completely lovely and supportive so that’s a big help. but there have been tears from me again and feelings that the bottom has dropped out of my world somehow and I cannot quite find my feet… it’s not hormonal, but it feels like that – as if the tectonic plates of my life are shifting…

and it may be to do with having the kids off school and juggling childcare and work commitments. it may be to do with me getting closer to the two year anniversary. perhaps my brain is inventing crappy news stories for me in an attempt to get my attention? I’m pretty sure it’s nothing to do with Sirius, but I wouldn’t put it past him. dogs and wolves are related, you know šŸ˜‰

I can see how people go adrift. I really can. it would be so easy. I am not going to.

how I am anchoring myself:

  • blogging myself, reading and commenting on other’s blogs
  • keeping in touch with sober penpals
  • talking to my husband about how I am feeling, not withdrawing
  • emailing Belle again more regularly after a long absence
  • keeping to my running and meditation practices
  • making sure I eat and sleep properly, and take my HRT
  • TREATS! yay!

also I’m reminded that I got a little squirrelly in the run up to one year, so I’ll repeat what I did then (pinched from Lou!) which was to start counting down to the anniversary, which helped me focus on what I am heading towards, not what I am leaving behind.

in some ways one can think of August as the pre-cursor to September, with all its promise of new beginnings, new terms, new starts. or like December, with its (too?) high expectations of family celebrations and over-abundance before the unforgiving cold light of January.

perhaps this is a time for me of musing, of considering what I want to come next? perhaps I need to give myself that space, and explore its possibilities, rather than, as Daisy commented, shrinking back into the smallest space possible in my own mind?

88 days to go to two years.