There is a great Ryan Adams song called ‘Wish I had me a Sylvia Plath’ (lyrics here) which I remembered yesterday when I was thinking about Lara.
I do not think Lara and Sylvia Plath are very similar at all in real life as Lara is a sunnier sort of a person than Plath and I can’t see her having any truck with Ted Hughes’ shenanigans. But I do see a sort of similarity between the Plath of Ryan Adams’ song, and the Lara who has been helping me through this week.
My recent sadness has been cushioned by silly, late-night discussions, an extended Queer as Folk video-watching marathon, much Ravelry action, a long walk in Oxfordshire, & Nigella’s Supper Onion Pie. There has also been much peppermint tea, and lots of robust, uncomplicated support. On top of all this, Lara has put up with my naughty, control-freakist takeover of her kitchen. She didn’t complain, for instance, when I installed my own tea-pot and tea-cosy, or when I started baking letter-shaped cookies and icing them in lurid colours. These small things are great kindnesses and I will miss Lara tonight if – all being well – I get the keys to my new place.
So while I am certain that a Sylvia Plath is certainly not what I need right now, a Lara certainly is. And in years to come I think songs should be written which eulogise Lara and celebrate her monumental generosity and joie de vivre. In the meantime, this post is all I could come up with.
Thank you for letting me stay. x
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